


Leap

by FrivolousFlare



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Chat Noir gets told, Comedy, Endgame Luka Couffaine/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug, F/M, Fluff, Lila Rossi Bashing, Lukabug, Lukanette February 2020, Lukanette Love Square, Missed it last year oops, Romance, Tumblr, Viperbug, Vipernette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-01
Updated: 2021-03-01
Packaged: 2021-03-12 15:08:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 29
Words: 59,820
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29137587
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FrivolousFlare/pseuds/FrivolousFlare
Summary: “I think a certain deal was made?” said Alix. “Something about you making someone yours by Valentine’s Day…?”This is the year. The year Marinette finally does something about her hopeless crush on Adrien. The year she finally takes the leap and makes him hers. But feelings get messy when Luka agrees to help her with her confession plans. Meanwhile, Hawkmoth's akumas are getting dangerous, and Chat Noir's pursuit of Ladybug even more so.
Relationships: Luka Couffaine/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug
Comments: 134
Kudos: 232





	1. Day One: Mine

**Author's Note:**

> This is the list of prompts for February of last year (hence there are 29 prompts instead of 28...) I just...never got around to fully planning or starting the story I'd thought up, and as it is based around Valentine's Day it didn't make sense to do it later in the year. 
> 
> So, have it for February 2021 instead! Full disclosure: I haven't actually finished writing the story, but I have planned all of the chapters. So don't worry about it being unfinished, just please be forgiving if I fail to upload every single day. 
> 
> For those who have read my other prompt series (Cherry Blossoms at Midnight) I hope you won't be disappointed to hear that the chapters for this one will probably be remarkably shorter. At least to begin with. I'm more playing into a high-school romcom with a few more serious themes and discussions developing later than the pretty-prose romance I did before. 
> 
> Finally, please note there will be slight canon divergence in that Ladybug/Marinette doesn’t know that Luka is Viperion. What can I say? I’m a sucker for the whole not realising who the other is shtick…

**DAY ONE: MINE**

With January approaching its end, talk of love, hearts, chocolate and dates was becoming more and more common around _Françoise Dupont_ school. For the most part, Marinette was able to ignore it as she hurried down the corridors, bag bouncing against her leg. However, she still caught the odd snatches of conversation about gifts and flowers and love letters, and instead of the usual romantic cheer such thoughts gave her, they instead made her feel vaguely sick.

Perhaps they hadn't remembered. Perhaps, the conversation having been so late, and so sugar-and-greasy-pizza-fuelled that they had all forgotten about it. But, when she burst into the classroom with one minute to spare and five heads simultaneously turned to grin at her, she knew her hopes were in vain.

"So," said Alya as Marinette slumped into her usual seat. "It's exactly three weeks until Valentine's Day."

"Is it?" Marinette forced herself to laugh. "January's sure gone by quickly…"

"I think a certain deal was made?" said Alix, who had come over to lean on the desk, face split into a mischievous smirk. "Something about you making someone yours by Valentine's Day…?"

"That does sound familiar," Alya agreed.

Marinette felt her face pale and groaned when the two girls began laughing. "I wish I hadn't said that," she moaned. "I didn't mean it. It was those sweets Juleka brought - all that sugar made me too confident. I can't actually do it!"

"Sure you can, Marinette," Rose chimed in, appearing next to Alix, eyes wide and dreamy. Juleka stood behind her "We'll help you plan the most romantic Valentine's Day confession ever! Right, Juleka?"

Juleka mumbled her agreement and something about the houseboat.

Rose clapped her hands together. "That's a great idea, Juleka! Are you all free today? We can walk to the boat together!"

* * *

Marinette's attempts to dissuade them from any such meeting fell on deaf ears. And so, after a torturous day of maths, chemistry and desperate gazes at the blond head in front of her, Marinette found herself being frog marched through the cold city to the Couffaine's family boat. Alya and Alix had ducked away to buy food and a large bottle of lemonade to snack on whilst they schemed.

They set themselves up in Juleka's bedroom, with Rose, Juleka, and Mylène on the bed and the others sitting on blankets and pillows spread across the floor. Alya set up their array of rations in between them then pulled out a large notebook flipped to a blank page. In a black felt-tip pen, she wrote the following words:

_**Operation Make Adrien Marinette's!** _

"So, what ideas have you got already?" she asked, switching to a purple gel pen. When Marinette said nothing, she sighed. "Seriously? You haven't thought of anything? Come on, Marinette. I thought you'd've spent the whole of January coming up with ideas…"

"I came up with ideas," Marinette replied, crossing her arms defensively, "but they all have the same problem."

"Which is?" Alix pushed.

Marinette averted her eyes and hunched her shoulders. "I have to talk to him."

A pause, then the other girls laughed.

"Oh, Marinette. You'll have to talk to him eventually," Mylène said with her usual gentle smile. "You can't have a relationship without actually talking."

"You and Ivan seem to manage it…" Alix muttered slyly, then scowled when Alya kicked her foot.

"I'll only mess up," Marinette sighed. "It doesn't matter how much I practise what I'm going to say, it always goes wrong when I actually try to say it. I'll be lucky if I even manage to get his name right…"

Alya rolled her eyes and nudged her shoulder. "Come on, Marinette. This is your year! Time to stop dragging your feet and-and leap!"

"Leap Day was last year," Marinette pointed out.

"So?" she responded, frowning. "It doesn't matter how many days there are. What's important is that it's Valentine's Day, girl! You don't have to say anything to him. You just need to give him a gift."

"Ooh! Flowers!" Rose suggested.

"Chocolate?" Juleka tried.

"Teddy bear?" said Mylène.

"New gloves?" Alix wiggled her fingers and grinned.

But Marinette shook her head. "What if he's allergic to flowers? And his dad doesn't let him eat many sweets, and a teddy bear's too childish. And do you remember what happened last time when I tried to give him a scarf?"

"Then how about a card?" Alya said. "This time, remember to sign it. With your _name."_

"He gets a million cards every year," Marinette pointed out. "I need something that will...stand out. Or at least, something unique…"

A short silence fell as the group deliberated this conundrum. Something unique, that wouldn't interfere with Adrien's modelling, or give him possible health complications, or emasculate him, or possibly get mixed up with a platonic gift.

"Ivan and I went for a picnic last year," Mylène said. "But...I guess we planned that together…"

Suddenly, Rose gasped and snapped her fingers. "I know!"

"What?" Alya clicked her pen and grabbed her notebook, where she had written and subsequently crossed out the group's previous suggestions.

"We'll ask Luka!"

"L-Luka! No, don't ask...it's fine, really. He doesn't need to-"

"Luka might have a better idea on what to give a man for Valentine's Day though!" Rose said. "We don't have to tell him about Adrien; we can just ask what sort of things he would like to receive!"

Juleka, looking troubled, mumbled something that went unheard as Rose was already dashing across the room, nearly falling on her face when an errant wave rocked the boat.

"I don't know about this," Marinette said. "I mean, he's not stupid. He'll work out why we're asking…"

Alya shrugged. "So? Why should he care?"

Why indeed. Perhaps because she could still remember with abject clarity the way he had confessed after the Silencer ordeal only for her to completely ignore it and subsequently avoid him for the next few weeks. Sure, when she had next hung out with him he hadn't seemed too bothered by it, which had led her to think maybe he hadn't meant his confession in a romantic way? After all, he knew she liked Adrien - perhaps he was being friendly? Perhaps he was trying to make her feel better about everything? After all, it was partially her fault he had been akumatised…

Not that Alya knew about it. Not that anyone did. Perhaps not even Luka knew what effect his words had had on her.

He certainly didn't seem phased now as he was pulled into the room, smiling amusedly with his wrist clamped in Rose's tiny hand.

"Hi guys," he greeted, lifting his free hand. "How can I help?"

A cold panic swept through Marinette's chest. She threw her arms out to knock the notebook out of Alya's hand and hurriedly sat on it. "Uh, w-well…"

"What do guys want for Valentine's Day?" Alix asked, words as unminced as ever.

"Hypothetically!" Marinette interjected, flushing when he laughed.

" _Hypothetically_ ," he said, "it would depend on the guy. Are you trying to decide what to get for Adrien?"

Marinette felt her blush darken, but then a cool, soothing relief stilled her heart. There wasn't an ounce of dejection or jealousy on his face, just a nonchalant smile and warm eyes. Trying to compose herself, she nodded.

"I see. Well, it's a bit late to be hatching up plans now. I've got to go to work in a few minutes. But I don't mind going over some ideas if you like? I can't promise I'll be able to help that much, but…"

"Thanks, Luka," she replied. "That would be great."

With another easy grin and a wave to the room, Luka left. They waited until the hatch leading to the deck shut, and his footsteps faded, to dissolve into chatter.

"That's settled then!" Alya said loudly, grabbing a corner of her notebook and yanking it out from underneath Marinette. "We need as many ideas as we can think of so Luka can help Marinette pick the best ones. There are no stupid ideas, guys."

She rewrote the previous crossed-out suggestions and hurriedly scribbled down whatever the group called out, from sugar-free pastries (Juleka) and fancy shampoo (Mylène) to aftershave (Rose) and new shoes (Alix, who added: "Seriously, his dad's a fashion designer and he wears those fluorescent-vomit-coloured things, like, everyday.")

Soon, the page was filled, but Marinette had barely registered half of the suggestions. Instead, she was replaying Luka's Silencer confession in her head until she had been able to fully convince herself that it _hadn't_ been romantic. It couldn't have been. He didn't seem at all phased at the idea of helping her pursue someone else. Even though Luka was really nice and would probably help regardless of his feelings, Marinette had felt the heartache of one's crush pursue someone else a few too many times to know it was impossible to keep it from showing on one's face.

But there had been nothing. No hurt, no pain, not even a hint of bittersweet in his eyes.

Therefore, the confession _couldn't_ have been romantic. He _didn't_ have feelings for her. He _wasn't_ hurt. Otherwise, he _wouldn't_ have agreed so readily to help her woo Adrien.

This much she repeated to Tikki an hour later when she'd gone home and holed herself up in her room with the page of suggestions ripped from Alya's notebook.

"Are you sure, Marinette?" Tikki asked. She hadn't even touched the cookie Marinette had laid out on a plate for her. "I mean, his confession did sound, well, romantic…"

"It _sounded_ romantic, sure. But, it _wasn't._ You know Luka. He's so kind. He was probably just trying to make me feel better. He thought maybe he'd said something horrible whilst he was Silencer and was making up for it."

"He said the same thing as Silencer."

"Psh." Marinette waved her hand dismissively. "It wasn't romantic. Do you think he'd be helping me with this if he did like me? He's a good friend, and that's how he sees me. So it's fine."

But Tikki only sighed and nibbled on the edge of the cookie. "If you're sure, Marinette," she said. "If you're sure…"


	2. Day Two: Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time, in which Luka gives Marinette some advice.

**DAY TWO: TIME**

"Here. Milk and sugar, yeah?"

Marinette jogged herself from her thoughts to look at the takeaway coffee cup in front of her face. She recognised the black nail varnish—chipped—as belonging to Luka. This was confirmed when she accepted the drink and turned to find him standing behind the bench on which she was sitting.

"Thanks," she replied, popping the lid off of the drink and releasing a puff of steam. She inhaled deeply, drawing in the warmth, and sighed. "Tea?"

"Earl Grey," Luka said. He had a second takeaway cup in his other hand. If anyone asked, he would claim it contained black coffee, but Marinette knew it was actually doused in cream and sugar. "So, shall we get started?"

"Right…" Bracing herself for his reaction, Marinette pulled the page of ideas she and the others had come up with from her bag and smoothed it out on her lap. "This is what we...well, Alya and Rose came up with most of them…"

She half expected him to take the paper from her hands, but instead he sat down next to her—keeping a polite slither of space between them—and smiled encouragingly. So, with another steadying breath, Marinette offered him the note.

Luka took a deep sip of his coffee as he read. He was either reading incredibly slowly, or rereading it several times as it took several minutes for him to respond. And even then, all he gave with a quiet, thoughtful, "Hmm…"

"Well?" Marinette asked. Her heart was thumping and one of her legs was jiggling of its own accord. "Do you think any of them will work?"

"I suppose they will," he finally said, passing back the note. "But I think you've missed the obvious."

"The...obvious?" Marinette looked back down at the list. All of the obvious things she could think of were written down—chocolate, flowers, cards, poems…

"Yeah, the obvious." Luka sipped at his coffee again, one side of his mouth slightly pulled up in the subtlest of smirks. "Time."

"Time?"

He explained: "At the end of the day, guys don't need stuff. Girls don't, either. But you're given this idea that romance, especially around Valentine's Day, is about getting stuff. Not true: you think that receiving something is the important part of the gift, but it's actually the time behind it. You're flattered by the fact the person took the time to actually get that bunch of flowers, or pick that box of chocolate, or bake that heart-shaped cake. The best thing you can give Adrien is your time."

"My time," Marinette repeated softly, dread already pouring into her mind. Time was the one thing she was always running out of. In between school work and helping at the bakery and designing costumes and merchandise for both Kitty Section and occasionally Jagged Stone, she barely had five minutes in the day to give to herself, let alone Adrien, who seemed as low on time as she was.

"I'm not saying you have to go invite him on a date," he continued, laughing. He must have misunderstood the reason for her worried face. "You can just hang out as friends at first to build up your confidence. Or, if you're really set on doing something for Valentine's Day, I'm sure he'd appreciate anything you make. As long as it's obvious you've put time into it—which, it will be, because everything you make is amazing."

She flushed a little at that, and hoped he either didn't notice or assumed it was from the cold. "I, well, I was always going to make something. I just don't know what…"

"What I'm trying to say, Marinette, is not to worry too much about it. Like they say in _The Tempest_ , the course of true love never did run smooth. Or was that _Romeo and Juliet_ …Either way, when it comes to love, if you're hoping for perfection then you'll always be disappointed."

Of course. Luka had always been astute. Of course he'd realised the heart of the problem; it wasn't that the ideas weren't good, it's that none of them were _perfect._

But didn't Adrien—in all of his perfection—deserve the perfect gift? Wouldn't he be flooded with a hundred other gifts on Valentine's Day, each more mundane than the last? She couldn't be mundane too. She had to find something better. Something...perfect. As perfect as him.

"Come on." Luka nudged her shoulder, breaking her from her thoughts. "It's too cold to be sitting still. Let's walk a while."

Marinette stuffed her list back into her bag, being careful not to accidentally crush Tikki, who had a strange look on her face. Then, reattaching the lid of her cup so she wouldn't spill her tea whilst walking, she stood with Luka. They meandered down a small, gravel path into a small park. It was quiet, with most people deciding it was too cold to be outside, and despite it being the afternoon the grass still glittered with frost. They continued in silence on the small path which formed a neat circuit around the park, sipping on their drinks and watching their breath turn into mist.

"If I were you," Luka said suddenly, "I think I'd make something edible. Chocolate or cakes or something. Valentine's Day is kind of a silly holiday anyway. It's not even a holiday… It's more for token gifts, you know? And everyone likes food."

"It's his diet," Marinette replied. "He's a model so it's quite strict. He's allowed ice cream every now and again, and he never says no to a macaron, but I don't know how happy his dad would be if I gave him sweets."

"Even better. A nice box of something homemade that he's not allowed is even more exciting."

Marinette sighed and downed the last of her tea. She continued clutching the cup, letting the residual heat escape into her gloves. "The problem is everyone will give him something like that," she pointed out. "You should have seen his locker last year…"

"That's why yours will be homemade," he replied, grinning. "Or...is it common knowledge he's not allowed stuff like that? If it is then a lot of the others might think the same as you and not get him anything sweet. Then yours will stand out even more."

"I hadn't thought of that…"

He laughed. "Of course you hadn't. You have a very specific problem where you both overthink and underthink."

"I don't overthink-"

"Besides," he continued, "what's the worst thing he can do? Say he's on a diet and apologise that can't eat them? Actually, nah, he's too polite even for that. He'd probably accept literal garbage with a smile if someone gave it to him…"

"Luka!"

"Tell me I'm wrong," he challenged and raised his eyebrows with a smile when she couldn't. He drained his coffee as they passed a bin and discarded the cup. He also took and threw away the empty cup Marinette subconsciously held out. "You'll be fine. He'll love whatever you decide to do."

"You really think so?"

"Of course." The smile softened. "You're an amazing girl, Marinette. And whatever you make will be just as amazing, so you have nothing to worry about."

The blush returned, fiercer than before, which she tried to hide by borrowing into her scarf. But she needn't have bothered; he wasn't looking at her but straight ahead with a misty, faraway look in his eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Luka was wrong twice. "The course of true love never did run smooth" is actually a quote from A Midsummer Night's Dream.


	3. Day Three: Candy Hearts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Candy Hearts, in which an akuma rears its unfashionable head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: in England we use 'sweets' instead of 'candy', and my British soul can't bear the thought of using an Americanism.

**DAY THREE: CANDY HEARTS**

"Which do you think, Tikki? Dark chocolate with raspberry cream or white chocolate with strawberry pieces?"

"I think they both sound delicious!"

Marinette rolled her eyes. "That doesn't help." She looked back at the recipe book—handwritten by her parents—and tried to mentally calculate how long each would take to make. "Maybe I should do both…"

"Don't give yourself too much to do," Tikki reminded her, settling in the middle of the page and staring up at her with her usual look of concern. "You have so much on already."

Marinette nudged Tikki off of the recipe book and held it up to reread the ingredients for raspberry cream. "I wonder if we have those heart-moulds. Or if I keep them as squares I can make them look like a chess board?"

"You're overcomplicating it again."

She sighed. "Fine. I know, I'll ask Luka!"

"Why would Luka know which one Adrien will like more?" Tikki asked. "Just because they're both guys doesn't mean they share tastebuds."

But Marinette had already pulled up Luka on her phone and was composing a short message.

**M: Dark choc & raspberry or white choc & strawberry?**

"Well, I don't know which one to make, and you're not being helpful," Marinette replied, hitting the send button. For a few seconds she smirked at Tikki, who frowned back. Then, her phone buzzed with Luka's response.

**L: For me? White choc  
** **L: I suppose this is for Adrien though?  
** **L: Dark I guess. That's the posher one right?**

**M: is dark choc posh?**

**L: I don't like it so it must be**

"Luka's helpful," Marinette said. "He says dark." She was about to put her phone away when it buzzed again.

**L: If you were planning on going downtown today don't. Just saw an akuma  
** **L: Nearly took my head off**

"Akuma. Come on, Tikki, let's go!"

* * *

The akuma was a vaguely humanoid figure—tall and broad-shouldered—wearing what appeared to be a bright white hazmat suit with a hot pink vizor and accents. On its shoulder it carried a large gun which shot pastel-coloured disks at whatever or whoever got in its way.

Ladybug landed in an alleyway, out of sight, and opened up the communicator on her yo-yo. She had given Chat Noir a message as soon as she'd transformed, alerting him of the akuma, but he hadn't seen it yet.

"Looks like I'm on my own for now," Ladybug muttered, stepping out into the open. Although the akuma didn't see her at first, the citizens cowering before him did and let out a faint, half-hearted cheer. The akuma—Ladybug struggled to think of a fitting name—turned.

"Finally!" yelled the akuma. A man, judging by the voice. "You took your sweet time, Ladybug. But where's your kitty cat?"

Ladybug began swinging her yo-yo in front of her to shield her body from the gun. "He's on his way," she said, eyes raking across his costume, searching for the object that didn't belong, but nothing stood out.

The gun, she thought. It must be the gun.

"No matter," exclaimed the akuma, posturing. "He won't be here in time to save you from me. Hya!" A pale pink disk shot from the gun like a large, thick frisbee, missing Ladybug by inches. It smashed into the brick wall beside her, splintering into pieces with a pale cloud of dust.

Sweet. It smelled sweet. Ladybug grabbed chunk as she dived away, narrowly missing a second, yellow disk.

The piece she had grabbed was powdery, nearly soft, and she could see a slightly dark ridge running across the top of it. A green projectile shattered against the wall above her, prompting her to take off running again. As she raced around the akuma, grimacing at the regular thuds of disks smashing into the buildings as he followed her progress, she broke off a small fragment of the projectile and sniffed it. Definitely confectionary of some sort, but eating it seemed unwise.

The opportunity to escape presented itself in the form of an abandoned lorry in front of an alley, which she was able to duck behind. The akuma would have to follow her in to continue attacking, which would force him within range of her own attacks.

However, she was surprised to find someone else hiding in the alleyway. He was slumped against the wall, clutching his chest.

"Are you okay?" Ladybug asked, crouching down next to him. If she was to lure the akuma in for a more close-range fight, she couldn't risk civilians getting in the way. "Can you stand?"

She thought she saw movement in his jacket, but forgot when the man shifted slightly and raised his head. It was Luka. His eyes were red and puffy, and his cheeks slightly damp. "I just need a moment," he muttered.

Ladybug looked at his hand, which he hadn't moved from his chest. "Are you hurt?"

"Sort of…" Taking a sharp, shuddering breath, he lowered his fist, revealing a badge or a brand across his jacket and shirt. It was a purple circle with a heart stamped on it, and in the centre the words: ' _Heart-broken 4 u'._

"What is that?"

"Love heart," he grunted. "You know? Those British sweets?"

"Come on," she said, sliding her hands under his arms to hoist him to his feet. "You have to get out of here. That akuma will be here any moment."

Luka stumbled, but was able to stand so long as he supported himself against the wall. "Thanks, Ladybug," he said. "I'll be fine." He gave her a soft, sad smile that nearly broke her own heart before turning and shambling down the alleyway.

A crash sounded at the other end; the akuma. No doubt it had found another victim to blast with oversized sweets. Ladybug rushed in its direction, skirting around the lorry, and found the white-and-pink costumed villain shooting rapidly at the rooftops. A figure leapt around above them, nimbly avoiding each one.

"As much as I love sweets, I have a certain physique to maintain!" Chat Noir called as another love heart turned to dust at his feet. "But if you have any sugar-free ones…"

The akuma hadn't noticed her yet. She ducked behind the lorry again and quietly called up her lucky charm. A frisbee—perfect. This would be too easy. She jumped on top of the lorry, frisbee tucked between her curled arm and chest, ready to launch.

"Hey! Candy Man!" she shouted. Not her best name but it would do. "Eat this!"

The akuma swung around to face her as she threw the frisbee. It sailed through the air, straight into the nozzle of the gun where it wedged. A split-second later, the akuma pulled the trigger.

The resulting explosion sent shards of pink sweets and bits of gun raining down on them. One fragment of love heart struck Ladybug in the chest, with enough force to knock her off the lorry and to the ground. The fragment disappeared into her clothes, then a pink circle and heart appeared in the same spot.

It was just like Luka's, only the words read instead: ' _Unrequited pining'._ All at once, she was overcome with a wave of sadness, so strong it caused her physical pain. Her heart ached, as though someone had cleaved it in two and left the weapon wedged in her chest. She tried to stand, but her legs had the consistency of whipped cream.

Someone landed in front of her. Blacks shoes, leather outfit, tail? Chat Noir, but he was blurry, shifting in and out of focus. "Milady? Are you okay? Are you hurt?"

She shook her head and tried to speak but her breath was shaky and her throat was hot. "I-I'm f-fine," she forced out. Her eyes were itchy, and when she rubbed them her fingers came away wet.

She was _crying?_

"The akuma, Chat-t," she said. "Y-you have t-to f-finish it."

Through her tears she could make out his frown, but nonetheless he turned away, likely to sort through the wreckage in search of the infected object.

As she waited, the despair grew worse. Heartbreak turned into darkness, and every insecurity she'd ever felt came flooding into her mind in shades of red and blue. She wasn't pretty; she wasn't smart; she wasn't brave. She was a clutz; she was petty; she was obsessive. She remembered all of the stupid things she'd done: stealing Adrien's phone; crashing his party; breaking into his house. She remembered the pain at seeing him with Kagami: fencing; ice-skating; eating ice-cream.

Of course he didn't love her. He never would. She didn't deserve it. She would always be on the side-lines, stumbling forward only to embarrass herself. No wonder he didn't want her—no one wo-

"I found it!"

Chat's return broke her chain of thought. She had to wipe her eyes to see him crouched in front of her holding what appeared to be white and pink magazine for a gun.

Ladybug swallowed and forced a nod as she raised her yo-yo. "I-I'm read-dy."

"Cataclysm." The magazine turned to dust in a haze of black, destructive energy. She caught the butterfly as soon as it emerged and then released it, pure white, into the sky.

Chat had also brought the frisbee, which she threw into the air to release the miraculous cure. Immediately, the pain in her chest weakened, the heart on her outfit disappeared, and her tears dried.

The buildings were fixed, the broken sweets removed, and the akuma was nothing more than a teenage boy holding a packet of sweets.

Ladybug touched her face. Her cheeks weren't even sticky—it was as though she had never been crying at all. The dark, horrible thoughts in her mind quietened to a dull buzz.

"I'll, uh, I'll sort this out," Chat said, gesturing the teenager, who hadn't moved from where he sat on the ground. "You look like you need some rest." His eyes flickered down to the place on her chest where the love heart stamp had been. Had he read it? If he had, he seemed determined not to talk about it.

"Thanks," Ladybug replied. Her legs had solidified enough to stand, but she still felt oddly sapped of energy. Instead of swinging away, she walked back through the alley, entering as Ladybug and emerging as Marinette.

Tikki took up position in her bag with a cookie already in hand. "Are you okay?" she asked. The street was quiet; no danger of being overheard. "I could feel everything you were feeling. It was painful."

"I'm fine now," Marinette said. "I just need a warm drink. Maybe some chocolate."

Tikki suddenly ducked out of sight and zipped the bag shut from the inside. A moment later, someone called Marinette's name.

Luka. He ran towards her, face paler than usual.

"What are you doing here?" he asked as soon as he was within range. "I texted you...I said it was dangerous here. The akuma…"

"I…" Marinette paused as she cobbled together an excuse. "I was already in the area. I did get your text but it was a bit too late."

"Are you okay? Did it get you?" he pressed.

Marinette's gaze flicked down to his jacket. He'd been hit. Heart-broken, it had said. Was he actually heart-broken, or did the sweets give different effects randomly? According to colour, perhaps? She nearly asked if he was okay, but she remembered that Marinette hadn't seen him. Ladybug had.

Apparently, the effects hadn't worn off as quickly for him; possibly because he had been under the influence of the akuma for longer. There was a sadness lingering in his eyes, and his skin was still a little red around them.

"Do you want to get a hot chocolate?" Marinette asked. "I...it did hit me. And...I don't know. It hurt."

"Yeah," he murmured. "It does." He forced himself to smile. "I'd love to get a hot chocolate."

"Good." She held out her arm, as a gentleman might hold out his arm for a lady to hold. "I know where we can get the best hot chocolate in Paris, free of charge."

"I do like things that are free of charge," he replied, his smile turning more genuine as he took her arm. Together, they walked down the cold, Parisian streets.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those not in the know, 'love hearts' are a real British sweet. They're these crumbly, powdery circles with a heart printed on them and some short, romantic message. 'I love you' 'Miss you' 'Hugs & kisses' etc. Stuff like that. They're packaged in bright pink foil with a white paper wrap, hence the akuma's colour scheme.


	4. Day Four: Chocolate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chocolate, in which Marinette tries to win over Adrien.

**DAY FOUR: CHOCOLATE**

It was a school night, and Marinette was still in the kitchen, whipping together a whipped raspberry cream to fill her chocolates with. In the end, she had decided with heart-shaped moulds, and just the one flavour. After all, the more complicated she made it, the more likely it was to go wrong.

Her parents were already in bed—being bakers they needed to be up at 4am to make the morning's bread—and so she and Tikki had free reign of the kitchen. Tikki had aided her as a taste-tester for the chocolate, which she had sprinkled with a tiny bit of sea-salt for a more interesting flavour, and when the filling was done Marinette handed her the whisk to lick.

"I'm confused," she announced after all but cleaning the implement. There was a smudge of raspberry cream on her cheek. "I thought Valentine's Day was later."

"It is. But this is part of my plan." Marinette smirked, pulling the heart-shaped chocolate shells closer so she could pipe cream into them. "Everyone else will be giving Adrien gifts on Valentine's Day. So, if I give him mine _before_ Valentine's Day then it'll stand out."

"That does make sense."

"Furthermore," she continued—a small part of her wished she could be this passionate in her written essays for literature class. "If I confess before, then we might be able to make plans _for_ Valentine's Day. And, like Luka said, the best thing I can give him is my _time._ And time spent together on Valentine's Day would be perfect."

"Sounds like you've really thought this one through." Tikki had finally noticed the smidgen of cream and tried to lick it off.

Marinette shook the tray of chocolate to dislodge any lingering air bubbles in the cream. Then, she broke up the leftover chocolate from the shells and set up her bain-marie again to melt it. "I have. This is the first time I've ever felt, well, confident. Nothing can go wrong."

* * *

The next day, with the chocolates neatly packed in a box from the bakery then tied with a red ribbon, Marinette walked to school—early for once—and tried to rehearse what she would say when she gave Adrien the treats.

Unfortunately, she realised with horror that whilst she had taken a lot of time perfecting his gift, she had put no thought into what she was actually going to _say._ Just like that, her confidence crumbled.

" _Hi, Adrien_ —no, that's too...normal— _Good morning, Adrien_ —no, too formal. I'll get back to that. Um… _I have a present for you. They're chocolate and raspberry flavoured_ —what am I saying, chocolate-flavoured chocolate?— _I cut out all of the processed stuff you usually get in chocolate so they'll be okay with your diet_ —or does that sound like I'm saying he needs to go on a diet?— _it should be okay with...what your dad says you can eat?_ —no, that's just awkward."

"Marinette…"

"I'm overthinking, I know." Marinette sighed. "Maybe I should write a note instead."

"That's a good idea," Tikki chimed. "That way you can't mess it up! Uh, not that I think you'll mess it up otherwise…"

Thankfully, she arrived at school with ten minutes to spare. She sat down in her usual spot and pulled out a notebook and pen.

 _Dear Adrien,_ she wrote and then stopped. What to say? She tapped her pen against her chin as she stared at the paper, willing the right words to materialise on the page.

A few minutes passed, and she hadn't written anything else. Her plan to leave the note and box on his desk for when he arrived was ruined when he walked into the classroom, flanked by Nino and Lila, and sat down. Perhaps she could leave it there at lunch instead, or give it to him just before he left at the end of the day.

But after lunch everyone would be there to witness it—what if he didn't like them? And after school there was the chance that his bodyguard would see and confiscate them. It had to be now. But the classroom was filling up, and she still didn't know what to write.

"Hey, girl. What're you working on?"

Marinette stifled a gasp and nearly jumped from her seat. "Alya! Uh, it's nothing. Just, umm…"

But Alya was already leaning over the desk, and Marinette wasn't able to hide the page in time. "Ooh, is this what I think it is? Is today the day? You work fast."

"I can't figure out what to write though," Marinette said. "And I don't know when I should give it, or…"

"Just say how you feel," Alya responded, shrugging as if this was the most obvious thing in the world. She squeezed past Marinette to her seat and rifled through her bag to extract her notebook for class. "' _I made these chocolates to show you how I feel about you,'_ or something. It doesn't have to be Shakespeare."

Marinette flinched, casting horrified glances at the back of Adrien's head, but he either didn't hear Alya, or had chosen to ignore her. Even if he had heard, his oblivious mind had probably discounted any idea that they were talking about him. Or maybe he just hoped it wasn't about him?

No, he just wasn't listening. When she leaned to the side she could see he was on his phone, texting someone.

Who, she wondered, craning forward for a better look. But Alya grabbed her jacket and pulled her back into her seat.

"Never mind what he's doing," she hissed. "Write your note! Before class starts!"

She had three minutes. With her heart thumping noticeably faster, Marinette clicked her pen a few times then began to scribble.

_I know it isn't Valentine's Day yet, but I wanted to give you a gift anyway, with the hopes that we can spend time together on the 14th itself._

_I made these chocolates especially for you. I hope you enjoy them._

_Love Marinette_

Done.

Marinette managed to stuff the folded note into the chocolate box just as Mlle. Bustier opened the door. Now, with the gift ready and note written, all she needed to do was give it to him.

* * *

The opportunity never arose. Adrien disappeared at lunch—as usual—and didn't re-enter the classroom until the last possible minute. Marinette had tried putting it on his desk during a break, but Chloé had given her a hostile look across the room and so she didn't deem it safe to leave unprotected. She had tried putting it in his locket, but she didn't know the combination, and then she'd spotted Lila skulking around in the cloakroom.

She had even asked Tikki to sneak it into his bag during the afternoon classes, but she'd refused.

"What if I got caught," she said. "What if he saw me? He'd work out that you're Ladybug and then you'd both be in trouble!"

Her only option, it seemed, was to present it to him in person after school. She just had to catch him alone. Perhaps Alya could hurry Nino outside before Adrien. But how to make him stay after everyone else had left? She could spill her bag, but he might not help. She could spill his bag! But then everyone else might stay to help.

There was only one class left until the end of school: History. Even Mlle. Bustier appeared to have given up as she just put on a short documentary about Napoleon Bonaparte and retreated to the corner of the classroom with a stack of homework to mark.

Ten minutes into the documentary, with most of the students in a bored stupor, Alya nudged Marinette's arm.

"When are you going to do it?" she whispered, eyes flickering to the desk in front. "Have you got a plan?"

Marinette shook her head miserably. "I don't know what to do," she hissed back. "Help me!"

"I'm on it."

Discreetly, Alya pulled out her phone, keeping it under the desk so that the illuminated screen wouldn't be too obvious in the dark room. She fired off a few texts, then after a few moments she slid down in her seat to gently kick Nino.

Nino took out his phone, read the texts, and turned in his seat to give both girls a questioning look. Alya frowned—her eyes flashed—and sent another text.

Nino shuffled around a little bit as he ducked under his desk to do something to his bag. Then he sat up again and subtly gave a thumbs up.

"Go to the cloakroom after class," Alya whispered. "Wait for Adrien there."

* * *

Whatever trick Alya and Nino had pulled, it worked. When the documentary finished the class was dismissed, Marinette headed straight for the cloakroom and busied herself reorganising her locker as other students passed through to deposit books and pick up bags. Eventually, after what felt like hours but in reality could only have been ten minutes, the room emptied and only Marinette was left.

Then Adrien entered. His pink mouth was pulled down in a confused frown, hair perfectly tousled, eyes the colour of summer grass. He appeared to be adjusting his shirt—why? It was perfect already—but stopped abruptly when he noticed Marinette.

"Hi," he said, raising one hand in greeting. "I'm looking for my scarf. Have you seen it? I thought it was in my bag but Alya said she saw it in here…"

Marinette blinked a few times before kicking her brain into gear. "Your...scarf?" she repeated. So that had been Alya's plan.

"My blue one?" he clarified. "The one my dad gave me?"

"O-oh. Uh, nope. Not seen it. Not today."

"Huh." Frowning more deeply—but no less handsome for it—Adrien walked to his locker and opened it. No scarf inside, even Marinette could see that, but nonetheless he began moving things around in his search.

 _Do it now_ , said the voice in Marinette's head, which sounded remarkably like Tikki. Right, of course. Now. She just had to get the box and give it to him. She didn't even need to say anything. Just give it and go. Give and go. Give and go.

Aware that her fingers were quivering, Marinette fished the white box from her bag and stepped closer to Adrien. He hadn't noticed her. Should she tap his shoulder? Say his name? Cough?

" _What_ do you think you're doing, _Dupain-Cheng?"_

Marinette thought she must have jumped a foot in the air. Whilst she hadn't dropped the box, she had crushed it to her chest, denting the sides. The confections inside would still be okay, she hoped. Unless the chocolate shell was too thin and they cracked…

The box was suddenly yanked from her hands. Chloé shook it, frowning when it rattled, then opened a corner to peak inside.

"Give that back, Chloé!" Marinette demanded, hoping her voice drowned out her thumping heart.

But Chloé only laughed in response. "Do you really think you have a chance with these...pedestrian sweets? I always knew you were pathetic, Dupain-Cheng, but this is something else."

"Stop it, Chloé," said Adrien. Although there was a hardness in his eyes, his tone was gentle as ever. "Give it back."

"But they're for you, aren't they?" Chloé replied, shaking the box again as she held it out to him. "Dupain-Cheng's little love tokens. Of course, she has no respect for people who work in fashion. Chocolate, really. And salt! You're trying to fatten his thighs and clog up his heart to bring him down to your level, because then you might have a chance."

"No!" Marinette yelped, roughly snatching the box back. She hugged it protectively. Her face blazed hot and cold. "It's...it's nothing. It's just, uhh...for my parents? Yeah. They're an, um, experiment. For the bakery. For Valentine's Day! Yeah, and, um, I was...looking for taste-testers?"

She squeezed her eyes shut. What a fool she sounded, and the box had been beaten around so much the chocolates were probably ruined. And even if they weren't, Chloé had ruined everything already.

"You need to stop jumping to conclusions like that, Chloé," Adrien said. "Marinette and I are just good friends, so please stop being so jealous. I'd love to try one of your chocolates, Marinette." He turned his soft smile on her and held out his hand.

Adrien, so kind and courteous. So...perfect.

Marinette fished out one of the chocolates—they'd miraculously all survived, but she still tried to pick out the prettiest, neatest one—and placed it on his awaiting palm. He nibbled it delicately and closed his eyes in bliss.

"It's really good, Marinette. I'm sure your parents will love them!" he said.

"Don't even bother asking me," Chloé snapped. "I'm on a very strict diet. I can't waste calories on your rubbish."

"I wasn't going to," Marinette replied bitterly, shoving the box back into her bag.

Another plan—failed.

* * *

**Luka: How'd it go? Did he like the chocolate?**

The buzzing of her phone forced Marinette to stop glaring at the slightly crushed box. After escaping the cloakroom, she'd rushed home to lock herself in her room and mope. The uneaten chocolates mocked her, but she didn't want to eat them, and it felt wrong to give the sweets so carefully prepared for Adrien to someone else.

Marinette picked up her phone and frowned. How did he know it was today? She scrolled up through their previous conversation and remembered she'd texted him a picture of the finished chocolates.

**M: I didnt do it**

**M: Stupid idea anyway**

**L: :(**

**L: It wasn't a stupid idea**

**M: It was**

**M: Gonna chuck this chocolate away**

**L: Hang on**

**L: Wait**

**L: That's good chocolate**

**L: Don't waste it on a bin**

**L: Waste it on me instead :D**

Well, he had been especially helpful and supportive recently, and she supposed it would be best if the chocolates were eaten instead of thrown away.

**M: Sure you can have it**

**M: But arent you meant to be at work?**

**L: I have a break in 10 mins**

**L: Besides, you sound like you need a hug :(**

**M: Ok I'll meet you outside**

The pizza place Luka worked at was a twenty minute walk away from her house, but as Ladybug she could half that time at least. After scooping out a couple of sweets for her parents, Marinette stowed the chocolate box back inside her back and called Tikki out to transform, pretending not to notice the look of disapproval on the kwami's face.

She swung across Paris, grimacing whenever someone spotted her and immediately ran in the opposite direction. Hopefully they'd realise soon enough that there wasn't an akuma skulking through streets. Despite barely being four thirty in the afternoon, the sky was already dimming and the sun glared behind a thick blanket of clouds on the horizon.

She reached the pizza place in five minutes, giving her time to find somewhere safe to de-transform—and satiate Tikki with a cookie—before seating herself on the brick wall on the opposite side of the road.

Soon enough, Luka emerged from the shop, face splitting into a grin as soon as he spotted her. He jogged across the road and pulled himself onto the wall. He held out one arm, and she immediately took the invitation to press herself into his side. His bony shoulder was cushioned by his thick jacket, and he smelled faintly of onions and tomato.

"Do you want to talk about it?" he asked.

Marinette shook her head. "No," she mumbled, her voice muffled. They stayed like that for a while longer until the cold brick wall began numbing Marinette's legs and rear, prompting her to disentangle herself and shift around a little. She took a deep breath, air freezing the inside of her nose, then pulled the crushed white box from her bag.

"Here," she said, presenting them to Luka. "You might as well have them. They are dark chocolate though, so I don't know how much you'll like them…"

"I say that," he said. "But you know me. I'll eat anything. Besides, I like raspberry." He opened the box and his eyes lit up. "They're hearts!"

Marinette flushed—she hadn't thought of that. "Uh, sorry about that. Um...oh!" The note was still inside; she snatched it out of the box. "That's—I'll take that."

Luka didn't seem too bothered. He plucked out one of the chocolates, sniffed it, then popped the entire thing in his mouth. Marinette didn't think his eyes could get any brighter but somehow he managed it.

"This is the best dark chocolate I've ever eaten," he declared after chewing and swallowing. "What did you put in this? There was raspberry and...salt?"

"Sea salt," Marinette replied, nodding. "I thought it would offset the bitterness."

"They're amazing," Luka said. "You should sell these at your parents' bakery."

"They're chocolates, not cakes."

"So?" he laughed as he selected a second chocolate. "Who's going to complain? These are the best chocolates in Paris."


	5. Day Five: Hands

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hands, in which Marinette gets crafty.

**DAY FIVE: HANDS**

The chocolates may not have worked out, but the failure had given her an idea of which avenue to explore next.

Despite mistaking the gift-giver, Adrien had clearly loved the scarf she'd made enough to still be wearing it a couple of years later. Therefore, a matching set of gloves would definitely go down well. Not to mention, it may work as a subtle way of letting him know who had really given him the scarf. Though, when she thought about it, he would probably assume she had been inspired by it instead.

Nevertheless, with her next plan decided, Marinette got to work. First, she would need to figure out how big his hands were, but it was Saturday morning, and Adrien had said his father had him booked up for the entire weekend. She could wait until Monday, but she wanted to do it now, before she ran out of opportunities before Valentine's Day.

Nino might know. She sent him a text, but after ten minutes he still hadn't responded. That either meant he was busy, or with Alya.

"I could always make a practice pair," she said to herself, digging through her chest of fabrics for her material. She had enough of the pale blue left over from the scarf to make one pair of gloves, but it would have to be perfect the first time around. So she pulled out another ream—dark blue, nearly indigo—and brought it to her desk.

Gloves were easy. All she needed was a hand-shaped stencil, which she drew onto a piece of card, guessing at Adrien's hand-size from the photographs she had of him still littering her walls. Then, using the stencil, she cut out four pieces of indigo fabric, making sure to leave enough room for the seams. She repeated with the lining fabric she'd bought the previous evening and began stitching everything together.

It took only a couple of hours, most of which had been spent fiddling with the awkward stitches in the dips between the fingers. But, when they were complete, she decided they were perfectly adequate. The seams held together when she tugged on them, and her hands felt warm inside. They were, of course, too big for her. But, when she held it as thought it was someone else's hand she thought it felt like a good size. Comforting in its largeness, with fingers long enough to encapsulate her entire fist…

"Daydreaming, again?"

Marinette gasped, throwing the glove back on the desk as though it had turned into a snake. Tikki smirked at her then floated down to investigate the garments.

"It looks really good, Marinette. Are you going to decorate them or leave them plain?"

"I don't know about these ones," she replied, picking up one of the gloves again. They were a little boring, she supposed. Perhaps a bit of embroidery would make them more interesting. It had to be simple though. Flowers or geometric shapes… "But Adrien's, when I make them, I'll have to leave them plain so they match his scarf. Speaking of…"

She hadn't checked her phone since she began. Sure enough, when she retrieved it from across the room where it was charging, she found a few texts, including one from Nino.

**Nino: ya dude hes the same size as me  
** **N: dunno how big mine r tho**

That was easy. She'd made Nino gloves before, commissioned by Alya for a Christmas present. And, in a bout of organisation, she'd kept the stencils she'd used in one of her supplies drawers. Perfect.

"Tikki, could you look for Nino's hand stencils?" she asked. "They should be...in the bottom drawer, I think?"

"Sure!" Tikki chirped.

As the kwami searched, Marinette opened her other texts.

**Alya: u free tomorrow? We could try out that new thai place for lunch?  
** **A: lila wants to come tho  
** **A: invites still there tho?**

That would be a hard no.

**Luka: GT here sale on atta fabric shop near Rue Pasturise  
** **L: In case you didnt know  
** **L: Ah no  
** **L: There is a sale on at  
** **L: Rue Pasteur  
** **L: Cant type  
** **L: Cold hands**

Marinette giggled.

**M: You need some gloves**

**L: I had some! Jules borrowed them  
** **L: So theyre not mine anymore**

She replied with a laughing face as she sat back down at her desk. Tikki was still scrabbling around in the drawers.

**M: thanks for the tip about the fabric sale  
** **M: I'll check it out tomorrow**

**L: no prob**

"Found it!"

Tikki finally emerged from the drawer with the stencil, labelled in the centre of the palm as 'Nino' in handwriting Marinette recognised to be Alya's. Marinette compared the stencil to her free-drawn one and the gloves made from it—smaller. Not substantially, but enough that they would be awkward for Adrien to wear.

Marinette had just enough time to draw out the hand shape on her fabric and liner before she was called down for lunch. Then, after assuring her parents that she was definitely getting her homework done and was too busy to be disturbed, she returned to her room and got to work on the second pair of gloves.

She got this pair done slightly quicker. They were smaller, so less sewing, and she'd worked out the correct technique to stitch the awkward bits. To finish, she found a thread in a similar colour to the gloves and stitched a swirling pattern around the wrist. It wouldn't stand out as an obvious feature, but in the light the flourish would subtly shine her initials. Perhaps this would lessen the possibility of the gift being mixed up again. Assuming Adrien noticed the pattern and was able to decipher it.

Though, seeing as Adrien had yet to notice her romantic advances, it was likely he wouldn't.

With the gloves finished, Marinette stretched and stood up. Her knees and elbows clicked, and her back ached from the way she had been hunched over her desk. Outside, the light was fading fast.

Marinette fished out a small box from the depths of her room and placed the gloves inside. Then, remembering she'd scrunched up and thrown out the note from the chocolates, she grabbed fresh paper and a pen to write a new one. Nothing complicated this time; the idea that Luka or Chloé may have accidentally seen and read it made her feel sick. She needed something short and simple that got the point across.

Her eyes raked around the room, hunting for inspiration. Eventually, her gaze landed on the set of hero dolls: Ladybug, Chat Noir, Rena Rouge, Carapace, Viperion, and an unfinished Ryuuko. She hadn't the heart to make Queen Bee, knowing who had been under the mask the few times she'd been needed.

Marinette recalled a conversation she, Alya, and Adrien had had about Chat Noir. She and Alya had been laughing over the terrible puns he'd come up with during the last akuma battle, when Adrien had joined in looking a little peeved. Offended, almost. Apparently, he was a huge Chat Noir fan. Or perhaps a pun fan.

If Chat Noir could see his lady now, he'd never let her live it down as Marinette penned the punny phrase 'I glove you - Marinette'.

I glove you.

She flinched as she read it back. Even Tikki was giving her a strange look. But it would have to do. She didn't want to think about it anymore. She folded the note and put it in the box along with the gloves.

Then, to make sure a repeat of the chocolate incident didn't occur, she sent Adrien a text.

**M: Can you meet me in the library on monday 10 mins before class?  
** **M: I need to ask you something**

It was barely 5pm now, but she didn't expect a reply until 8pm at the earliest; that was when dinner finished and it wasn't often his father booked lessons or modelling sessions for after dinner.

It was too cold and bleak to go outside, and she could do homework tomorrow, so unless there was an akuma attack she had her evening free to do as she liked. She could watch a film, listen to music, research through the latest fashion trends, draw, lie on her bed and daydream vividly about her future with Adrien…

Or—her eyes flickered to the forgotten indigo gloves at the back of her desk—she could figure out what to do with those.

* * *

Sunday came and went without much incident. Her homework had taken longer than she'd hoped, and so Marinette hadn't been able to visit the fabric shop. No matter; she could always drop by afterschool to snap up any bargains. Her highlight of the day was a text from Adrien in the afternoon, confirming he could meet her.

On Monday, she arrived at school twenty minutes early, which gave her ten minutes to pace anxiously around the library, waiting for Adrien to arrive. There weren't many students, thankfully: a couple sat at one of the desks, poring over a textbook whilst another studied the shelves in search of some elusive volume. No one she recognised, Marinette was relieved to find. She had half-expected Chloé to suddenly appear and ruin her plan again, or for Lila to show up unexpectedly and turn the entire population of the library against her somehow.

With exactly ten minutes before class, the door opened and Adrien sashayed in, hair gleaming gold beneath the buttery ceiling lights, eyes brightening when he spotted her across the room. His blue scarf was arranged artfully across his shoulders, lest an errant photographer should take a picture of him looking anything less than fashionable and perfectly put-together.

"Hi, Marinette," he greeted, smiling as he approached. "What did you need to talk to me about?"

Marinette took a deep breath and cleared her throat. "Well, it's, uh, not so much talk as, um, give you something...that I made...for you…" Feeling she was on the verge of rambling, she shut her mouth and pulled the parcel from her bag.

Adrien took it, eyebrows lifted in surprise. He opened the lid and an even wider smile graced his face. "For me? Wow, they're amazing, Marinette!" He placed the box on a nearby bookshelf and held up the gloves and note. "They even match my scarf!"

"I...hoped they would," Marinette said.

"You did a great job finding the fabric. It's pretty much the same material."

Any hope of Adrien realising that it was actually _her_ who had made and given the scarf vanished as he pulled the gloves on and flexed his fingers. At least they fit. Then, he turned his attention to the note.

"I glove you...glove you! Ha!" The laugh he belted out—surprisingly loud for the usually demure boy—reminded her so much of Chat Noir than Marinette nearly thought the superhero was hiding somewhere behind the bookshelves. "I didn't know you were so _punny!"_

He continued laughing as he folded the note and put it in his pocket. "Thank you, Marinette. This is such a nice gift."

Marinette waited for him to say something else. Anything else. Nothing.

Ice settled in her stomach as she came to a horrible realisation. He hadn't understood. He hadn't noticed. He'd passed off her confession, the bearing of her love and soul, as a joke. A stupid, ridiculous, Chat Noir level joke.

And she could hardly correct him now. How _humiliating._ How _embarrassing_ would it be to admit she had tried to confess her feelings with a pun.

Her entire body felt cold and empty, like a hollow ice sculpture. "I-" she sighed, defeated. "I'm glad you like it."

Next time.

Next time would be better.


	6. Day Six: Cherry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cherry, in which everyone gets a bit sticky.

**DAY SIX: CHERRY**

"Now that I think about it, gloves _were_ a bad idea. I mean, this is for _Valentine's Day._ I have to give him something more _romantic._ I was closer with the chocolates, but I can't do it _again."_

Marinette paced as she continued to mutter to herself whilst Luka watched on in bemusement, guitar in his lap. He finally spoke up when she began her fourth lap of his room.

"So what's your next plan?" he asked.

Marinette stopped abruptly and nearly tripped over her own feet. "Whoa! Oh, um…"

"You don't want to do chocolates again," he prompted, setting his guitar aside to lean forward with his elbow on his knee. "Which is a shame because they were amazing."

"You're just hoping you'll get more chocolate," Marinette replied, managing a laugh. She took a seat next to him on the bed and sighed. "It doesn't feel right doing the same thing again."

"So, what are your other options? Flowers? I think he looks like a daisy man, myself…"

Daisies _would_ bring out the golden sunshine of his hair…

Marinette shook her head before she fell into a daydream. "I don't know," she admitted. "Flowers don't seem right… Maybe I should try another sweet thing. Something small, bite-sized."

"Macarons?"

"Nah, I've brought them in loads of times. They're not special enough."

Luka frowned in thought, leaning back until his shoulders hit the wall. His hands were folded behind his head. "Something sweet... Can you make just sweets? Lumps of flavoured sugar?"

Actual sweets—like traditional sweetshop sweets that came in glass jars—were a lot more difficult than they looked. Fudges she could do, but they might stick in his teeth. Marshmallows, but were they too childish?

"I can make boiled sweets?" Marinette said after a while. "Do you think they'd work?"

"I don't see why not," he replied.

* * *

Whilst not simple—melting sugar brought with it a host of problems solved only by constant vigilance—boiled sweets were far from impossible. She made the treats one evening, leaving them to set whilst she finished a particularly dull essay about Dumas. After a lot of umming and ahhing, she had decided to go with a cherry flavour as this would give the sweets a cheerful Valentine's Day red colour and it was a taste she had often associated with romance. Perhaps because of the tiny cherries André topped his sweethearts ice creams with whenever she managed to track him down.

Not long after her parents had gone to bed, Marinette prised the little sweets out of their moulds. She had chosen a simple round lozenge as anything more complicated would be awkward to suck on. They clattered onto the plate like rubies, gleaming beneath the bright kitchen light and casting scarlet shadows across the porcelain. Marinette held one up to see the myriad frozen bubbles inside. She wondered if perhaps she could have thrown in a dash of edible glitter to turn them into captured galaxies, but that may have affected how well they set.

They didn't look right in a box, so she took a crisp paper bag and sketched a simple but elegant design in soft pencil, then went over it with red and black pens. When the ink was dry, she poured in as many sweets as she could—she'd give the leftovers to Luka as she recalled he liked cherry—and tied the top with a red ribbon.

It was a little juvenile, perhaps, but it would do. It wasn't perfect, but...hopefully that wouldn't matter.

Hopefully.

* * *

"DUCK!"

"AH!"

Marinette had barely taken ten steps from her house the next morning when Chat Noir barrelled into her and knocked her behind a bin.

"What was that for?" she asked, accidentally slipping into her Ladybug voice. Fortunately, he didn't notice.

"Sorry, princess," he said flippantly, crouching beside her and peering around the bin. "Akuma. You might want to find somewhere to hide until we take care of him."

An akuma? _Now?_

"Sure, I'll go hide out," Marinette agreed, edging away from him. Chat Noir turned to give her a grin and a wink—such an incessant flirt—before leaping back into the battle.

The akuma was a clash of colour: violent orange; acid green; toxic purple. It was vaguely rectangular, with a series of black buttons running across its chest. Its little square head was perched awkwardly on its shoulders like a misplaced brick with angry red eyes gleaming.

As Chat Noir bounded towards it, staff raised to strike, the akuma pressed one of the black buttons and what looked like a can of fizzy drink fell out of a well-disguised flap in its stomach, straight into its awaiting hand. It shook the can up and down then pulled the tab. A jet of bright red erupted, drenching Chat Noir and throwing him into a building.

"Ugh, cherry!" he complained. "Disgusting!"

A vending machine, huh? This was going to be messy.

* * *

In the end, the akuma wasn't too hard to bring down. Ladybug first had to yank Chat Noir off of the brick wall as the cherryade he'd been blasted with acted like a glue. Then, after a short bit of observation through which she learned what each drink did when utilised, she called down her lucky charm and was given a large magnet.

What she needed to do was obvious, but it took a long time. First, she had to work out where the closest walk-in freezer was. Second, she used a combination of the magnet and Chat Noir's skills of annoyance to guide the akuma down the streets of Paris, into _Le Grande Paris,_ then through to the kitchen.

Fortunately, the staff were used to akuma attacks in the hotel and were happy to help by clearing a path to the large freezer. The akuma was shoved inside, and the super-cold caused the weaponised drinks to expand, rendering them useless. After that it was a simple hand-to-hand fight which was finished when Chat Noir slammed his staff into black square beneath the row of buttons. Apparently, the akumatised object had been hidden there, and the butterfly was released. The costume disappeared, and a balding, middle-aged man fell shivering to his knees.

Finally, it was over.

* * *

School had started a while ago, but Marinette wasn't too bothered about being late. After all, when akuma attacks occurred in the vicinity, the teachers were a lot more lenient when it came to excusing tardiness.

She wasn't the only one late either. Adrien suddenly appeared ahead of her. He must have been hiding down one of the side streets; though why he was out and about when the akuma struck she didn't know.

Could it be that the universe was finally on her side? That she and Adrien were destined to be on the same stretch of pavement, alone, with no chance of classmates getting in the way? Her, with her handmade give; him with his gorgeous smile and soft voice?

It was meant to be.

Marinette barely ran three steps, mouth open to call his name, when Nino appeared as well, sprinting across the road, waving his hand.

Darn it.

Still, it would be nice to walk to school with him, even if Nino was there too. Adrien paused to allow Nino to catch up, and Marinette took the opportunity to speed up and join them.

"Adrien! Marinette! Hey dudes, did you get caught by that akuma too?" Nino asked. "I was stuck in a can of limeade for-like- _ever."_

"Same," Adrien replied. "It was pretty gross. I thought I was going to smell like limes for the whole day. At least Ladybug's cure fixed everything."

"Yeah," Marinette chimed in. "Imagine being all...gross and sticky all day—ha ha ha…"

"Yeah," the boys agreed, nodding. "At least it wasn't cherryade," Adrien added. A rare look of disgust crossed his face. "It's the worst."

Marinette nearly stopped in her tracks. "You don't like cherryade?"

"I don't like cherries," Adrien said, shrugging.

"Oh," she replied.

Well, that was that plan ruined. She could hardly give him a pack of sweets when there was no way he'd like them.

Back to the drawing board.

Nino and Adrien fell into light chatter, and Marinette walked silently beside them. By the time they reached school, the first lesson was over, and the corridors were thick with students drifting to their next class. The three of them hurried through the building and were able to slip into their second lesson before the bell.

Not everyone had arrived yet, but Marinette found Rose and Juleka chatting by Juleka's desk. She fished out two paper bags from her rucksack—the decorated one for Adrien and a plain one with leftover sweets for Luka—and dropped them on the desk.

"Here," Marinette said forlornly. "You may as well have these. Juleka, can you give this bag to Luka, please?"

"Sure," Juleka murmured.

"Aren't these meant to be for Adrien?" Rose whispered, her large eyes alight with worry. "What happened?"

Marinette sighed. "He doesn't like cherry, so this plan was a bust. You may as well enjoy them." She could tell by the way Rose's eyebrows furrowed that she was going to ask more questions, so she waved and walked away.

At her own desk, Marinette fished out a pencil and the list of ideas from her bag and crossed out the word 'sweets'.

"Maybe next time," she mumbled, letting her head fall against the wooden surface with a _clunk._ "Maybe next time…"


	7. Day Seven: Notes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Notes, in which Marinette gets frustrated.

**DAY SEVEN: NOTES**

**Luka: What went wrong this time?**

**M: Wrong flavour  
** **M: Who doesnt like cherry?**

**L: Psychopaths**

**M: D:  
** **M: Adriens not a psychopath!**

 **L: You sure?  
** **L: I wouldn't trust a guy who only wears orange trainers  
** **L: There's def something sus going on there**

**M: Sshhh**

**L: :P**

Smiling, Marinette tossed her phone onto the chez lounge so it wouldn't distract her. The list of Valentine ideas was pinned to the wall above her desk with fresh, red lines slashing through the already failed attempts. The next one she was going to attempt was also the most daunting: a love note.

It was the obvious choice, really. What use were material gifts for the boy who already had everything he could want? How many more times could she try making sweet treats before she accepted that they weren't going to work?

But a love note? Simple, elegant, and almost unreasonably blunt. Not even Adrien, the master of obliviousness, could miss a romantic confession written plainly in a note. Not even he could misunderstand the phrase, 'I love you'. Not even he could read such a thing and think she saw him as just a friend.

The only problem with this idea was, of course, the writing of such a note.

As she flicked her notebook to a fresh page, Marinette was struck with a sudden appreciation for anyone who wrote. The paper was as blank as her mind, unashamedly naked as it waited for her to pour her very heart and soul onto it. How on earth was she meant to translate her emotions into words? How was she meant to get across the depth of her feelings with the elegance and beauty he deserved? A poem? Should she conduct a sonnet?

_My Adrien's eyes shine brighter than the sun  
Like pools of jade with no end to their depths_

_His hair, so soft and light, from gold is spun  
And when he smiles I oft run out of breath._

Nope.

Marinette scrawled out her attempt at Shakespeare and turned to a new page. "This is so difficult, Tikki!" she complained, twiddling her pen around her fingers as she glared at the mocking white of the paper. "I don't know what to write!"

"Hmm...How about you start with a list of what things you want to say?" Tikki suggested, flying across the room to sit next to the pencil pot. "The things you like about him?"

"Thanks, Tikki." Marinette grinned, clicking her pen. "That's a good idea."

 **Things I** **love about Adrien  
** **\- Handsome  
** **\- Kind**

Marinette paused. She looked at Tikki, but the kwami shrugged and shook her head.

"It's your list," she said. "I can't tell you what you like about him."

**\- Plays piano**

Did that count? After all, she hadn't really heard him play much piano. Actually, had she ever heard him play? She knew he took lessons, but when she thought about it she couldn't recall a single memory of actually listening to him. She'd only ever imagined it—Adrien playing a private concert of her favourite love ballads was a favourite daydream of hers.

"Maybe I'm just a little...rusty," she said, turning to the next page. "I'll write some other lists about the others. Maybe I can write everyone little notes for Valentine's Day! That would be sweet, don't you think?"

"It sounds like a good idea to me, Marinette," Tikki replied, supportive as ever.

Writing lists for her friends was far easier. She wrote something for everyone: from Alya (strong; fierce; loyal; brave) to Rose (sweet; kind; creative; optimistic). Words and feelings came easily, and she went through several pages in her effort to find as many kind but true things to say about her friends. The thought of giving them all a boost in confidence and making them feel loved gave her a sort of adrenaline rush that kept her going.

She even wrote a list for Luka, and had trouble sticking to one page. He was kind and generous and supportive and talented and funny and selfless and he had a nice smile and pretty eyes and the ability to make her feel special without even trying. He was, she supposed, quite good-looking too. Tall, if a little scrawny, with good cheekbones and thick hair.

Yes, much better. This was the sort of list she needed for Adrien. Confident she was now so deeply in the swing of things she could even write notes for Chloé and Lila, Marinette flipped back to Adrien's left, put the nib of her pen to the paper and…

"This is useless, Tikki!" she yelped, throwing her pen to the desk with such ferocity it bounced onto the floor. "I don't know what to write. I can't think of anything."

"You love him?" Tikki said coolly, and for a moment Marinette was reminded that the tiny creature was essentially a god.

"I do," Marinette replied, swallowing down the tiny part of her that wasn't so confident in that fact.

"But you don't know why?"

"I…" Marinette shifted uncomfortably in her seat and ducked down to retrieve her pen as an excuse to escape Tikki's penetrating gaze.

Surely...surely it didn't _matter_ that she didn't know why she loved him? Surely that was just the _nature_ of love. It was irrational! It didn't make sense! Sometimes the heart just knows.

Romeo and Juliet fell in love in just an evening! Then again, they did both die at the end…

Heathcliff and Cathy were both terrible people but managed to love each other! Then again, _Wuthering Heights_ hardly seemed an instruction guide for how to romance.

Lancelot and Guinevere fell in love despite her already being married! Then again, didn't their adultery end in the downfall of Arthur and Camelot?

No, she and Adrien weren't book characters. They weren't going to die, or dissolve into a gothic madness, or cause the ruination of Paris. She instead thought back to the moment she first fell in love with him, in the rain. He was giving her his umbrella, and he apologised for...whatever it was that she'd been annoyed at. And his hand touched hers, and there was a strike of lightning, and…

_Coup de foudre._

She was in love, it was meant to be. She knew in her heart that this was true and real and _destined._ Surely he'd felt it too? The lightning from the storm coursing through their hands. The spark as their eyes met. The rain glistening like diamonds around them, burning orange in the light from his car…

Marinette added 'generous' to her list.

Four things, one of which she hadn't even experienced. Another was shallow; her love wasn't dependent on his handsomeness—though it was a nice bonus. Generous and kind. She tried to think of other words, but none of them fit. She liked to think he was funny, but he'd never made her laugh. She liked to think he was loyal and supportive, but she couldn't think of any examples. Trusting? But that wasn't exactly a quality one falls in love with. Smart?

Smart could work. She wrote that down too.

After another ten minutes of ruminating, she had thought of nothing else. Deciding a break was needed, Marinette stood up, stretched, and went to check her phone.

No new messages, but a notification from Instagram told her Adrien had posted something new. A picture of him and Kagami outside what appeared to be a theatre.

 _**adrienagrestebrand** _ _at Palais Garnier  
_ _About to see the Paris Opera Ballet perform Romeo and Juliet with Kagami! Thanks to her mother for tickets as an early Valentine's Day gift!_

Marinette gave the post a like then despondent shuffled back to her desk. She would never be able to top ballet tickets. She couldn't even write a stupid love note.

"I've changed my mind," she announced, shutting her notebook and hiding it in one of her desk drawers. "I'm not doing a love note. It's not good enough. I need to do something else."

"Are you sure, Marinette?" Tikki asked. "You've spent so much time writing all of that down…"

"Well…I can still write notes for everyone else," she said, looking unsurely at the drawer. "Just not for Adrien. I can't come up with anything." She glanced at the list on the wall, but the thought of going through it again filled her stomach with a cold, nauseous dread. Instead, she went back to her phone scrolled aimlessly through her Instagram feed for a bit, double-tapping occasionally. She followed mostly friends and fashion designers, as well as a couple of super-hero pages.

One picture made her pause.

_**julekacouffaine** the downside to living with a guitarist is the constant noise_

Above, a picture of Luka sitting in his room, guitar on his lap, clearly in the middle of playing, but his face was turned away towards the window. She could just see the hint of a faraway smile pushing into his cheek.

Juleka had posted it an hour ago, and there was already a string of replies.

 _ **luka.coufainne** Says you - you play guitar too. And bass!_  
 _ **luka.coufainne**_ _And when did you take that?_

Marinette laughed, scrolling back up to look at the picture again. It wasn't a pose then; he really had been gazing through the window with a dreamy expression. What was he thinking about? Or—she suddenly remembered the Love Hearts akuma and his broken-hearted emblem— _who_ was he thinking about?


	8. Day Eight: Teddy Bear

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Teddy Bear, in which Marinette and Luka get crafting.

**DAY EIGHT: TEDDY BEAR**

"This is definitely the one!" Rose beamed, her smile pushing her cheeks out like a chipmunk's. "It's so cute! Will you be able to make it?"

"Of _course_ she will!" Alya said, slinging an arm around Marinette's shoulders. "She's one of the best sewers in the school!"

Huh, she used to say she was the _best_ sewer.

"The pattern's not too hard," Marinette replied. The three of them were gathered around a desk in the library where Marinette was showing them the design for her next idea: a teddy bear.

It was juvenile, yes, but when she'd looked up Valentine's Day gifts on the internet, cuddly toys had come up a surprising amount of times. Too many times for her to ignore. And so, she'd found a pattern online for making her own.

"I'll have to get a few supplies though," she continued, scrolling down the page to the material's lIst. "I'll need some stuffing, and make a fuzzy fabric for the fur. What colour do you think?"

"Pink," said Rose.

"Green," said Alya.

Marinette had been thinking about a warm, buttery yellow, but now she was less sure. "I'll see what they have at the shops," she said. Perhaps the prices would make the decision for her.

* * *

After school, Marinette went shopping alone. Alya had offered to go with her, but ducked out last minute to help Lila with her homework.

"She sprained her wrist in PE," Alya said by way of explanation when Marinette phoned her from outside the school to ask where she was. "I said I'd help out by writing it down for her."

By the time Marinette reached her favourite fabric shop, she was in a bad mood. "Lila's probably going to make her do all of the work," she grumbled as she glared through the window. Her intention had been simply to look at what new fabrics they had in, but a foxy orange silk draped across a mannequin only made her gnash her teeth.

"Laser eyes not working?"

Marinette jolted in shock. Luka's face had appeared next to hers in the glass's faint reflection. He was grinning.

"Laser eyes?" she repeated, frowning.

He nodded. "With the face you were pulling I thought you were trying to break the window with superpowers or something. Presumably because it killed your family or some other tragic backstory?"

Marinette stared at him in bemusement but after a few seconds could help but let out a small laugh at his very serious expression. "No tragic backstory here," she said, looking back at the window. Now she thought about it, the orange silk was closer to Rena Rouge's costume. "I was just getting some supplies."

"What are you making?" he asked. "Something for Adrien?"

"Yeah…"

"Yeah…?" His reflected grin broadened as he took a small step closer. She noticed a guitar case was slung across his back. "What are you making him?"

"It...It's embarrassing…"

"I'm sure it isn't," he said. Then, after a thoughtful pause, "Unless you're making a lingerie set or something…"

Turning bright red, Marinette lightly smacked his arm. "Luka!"

"I'm joking!" he laughed, raising a hand as if in defence. "You don't have to tell me if you don't want to…"

"No, it's fine…" He'd found out eventually; if she didn't tell him, Juleka probably would. "I'm making a teddy bear—don't laugh!"

"I'm not laughing!" he replied. "I think that's a nice idea. Are you making it from scratch? I couldn't do that—wouldn't know where to begin. Then again, I can't even sew on a button, so…"

"Would you like to learn?" Marinette offered. "I've never done it myself either so it would be a new experience for both of us! If you're free, that is…"

"Yeah, I'm free. I was just grabbing some new strings from the music shop." Luka jabbed his thumb over his shoulder where a music shop was situated further down the road. "If you don't mind teaching me…"

"You'll be fine. Come on, I need to pick out fabrics."

Marinette grabbed his elbow and tugged him into the shop. She directed him to a column of fabric reams that she thought would work best for toys whilst she picked out a bag of stuffing. However, when she returned, he had moved on to the 'bargain bin'—a large basket full of tail-end scraps that the shop was selling for cheap.

"Find any you like?" she asked, beginning to rifle through as well.

"I don't even know," he admitted. "It's a little...overwhelming. There are a lot to choose from."

"Just pick out some colours you like," she said. "Most fabrics will be fine, and I can tell you if something won't. Silk puckers too easily so I'd stay away from that."

"No silk."

"No silk," she confirmed. "Can you hold this? I'm gonna look at the ones over there…" Marinette passed the bag of stuffing into his awaiting hands. "I'll be back in a moment."

Leaving him to continue sifting through cheap cuts, Marinette returned to the initial wall of materials. She quickly located the fuzzy ones in varying colours and thickness, and began going through them one-by-one in search of the perfect piece. The colourful options were too garish, too gimmicky, so Marinette was instantly drawn towards the more natural, neutral colours: browns and beiges.

Her favourite was a deep, chocolate colour, but she worried it was too dark. And the rich, mahogany undertones would clash with Adrien's room. The paler browns were too generic, and the whites too easily stained. Finally, she came across an attractive silvery one. The cool tone would suit Adrien's decor, and the neutral, inoffensive colour would look nice with a brighter accent. Emerald green, she thought, like his eyes.

She knew she had some green material already, and she could probably dig out some beads to use as eyes from the depths of her room too. She pictured the finished bear in her mind: stylish, classic, perfect. He was going to love it, and maybe he'd love her too. She just had to actually make the bear, hopefully without messing it up.

And, of course, she would be teaching Luka too. She had attempted once to teach Mylene how to make clothes, but the other girl hadn't taken to it. Marinette still wasn't sure if Mylene just naturally struggled or if she had been a less-than-adequate teacher. Hopefully, Luka would take to it much more easily. After all, they'd both be following the same online pattern she'd found.

She wondered what he would do with his bear. Perhaps he'd give it to whoever he'd been daydreaming about in Juleka's Instagram picture...

Marinette made a note of the fabric code so she could ask an assistant to cut her a piece at the till then returned to Luka, who now held not just the stuffing but had also fished out a selection of scraps.

"Do you think any of these will work?" he asked, shifting his hold on the items as he tried to grab another piece. "I liked the colours and some of these had some pretty cool patterns."

"They'll work fine," Marinette replied. "How many are you planning on making though?"

"One, I guess," he said. "But these are quite small so I thought maybe I could stitch them together?"

"Like a patchwork bear? That's a cute idea."

A short while later, after Marinette paid for their spoils—Luka had tried to pay for his odds and ends but she wouldn't let him—they set off down the darkening streets to Marinette's house. Her parents were too busy getting ready to close the bakery to say more than a brief hello.

In her room, they set up a crafting circle in the floor with their fabrics and stuffing spread between them, along with beads, thread and needles which Marinette procured from her sewing supplies. She pulled the instructions up on her tablet, which she propped up against a box of glittery threads.

First, they had to measure and cut out pieces of fabric, which was easy enough for Marinette using one sheet of grey fur and one sheet of bright green for the feet and ears, but Luka had to first stitch together a few of his chosen scraps to get pieces big enough from which to cut the pattern. He didn't seem too upset by this extra work, and instead relished arranging different patterns and colours in a way he found pleasing.

Fortunately, nothing clashed, and he'd kept mostly to a palette of pink, teal, and black. When he had pieces big enough, he carefully chose where to cut out the pattern so as to have the correct amount of each material in the correct parts of the bear. He particularly liked a printing fault on one section, where a black dot on a piece of blue had smudged into a lopsided heart.

"I want that on the front," he said, using a piece of seamstress' chalk to draw around the stencil Marinette had prepared before school. "On its chest."

"Make sure you know that's the front, then," she said. "You'll sew it inside out to hide the seams."

"Right…"

With everything cut out, they fell into the menial task of sewing everything together. Marinette, being far more experienced, stitched her parts together quickly and neatly, but next to her Luka was struggling. His needle kept unthreading, and he hadn't put his pins in as they constantly fell out. Eventually he got the knack of it, and as Marinette began on her teddy bear's arms, they fell into light chatter.

"Do you know what you're going to do with yours?" Marinette asked, forcing a handful of stuffing into the furry tube she'd made.

"I haven't thought that far ahead yet," he admitted. "Name it Hamish and force it to listen to my music, probably."

"Hamish, huh? Do you want to make a kilt for him too?"

" _Aye_ ," he replied, slipping into an outrageous Scottish accent. "And a wee sporran too."

She giggled—though in truth she had no idea what a sporran was. "Seriously, though. Have you got someone in mind to give it to?"

Luka didn't reply. At first, she thought he was just concentrating on a particularly fiddly stitch, but when she glanced across at him she found a thoughtful, slightly uncomfortably, frown on his lips. His fingers had paused mid-stitch.

A touchy subject, perhaps. "Sorry, you don't have to answer."

"It's okay," he said. "Just, uh, took me by surprise."

Marinette didn't bring it up again. After a few awkward seconds, she asked what a sporran actually was.

* * *

They passed most of the evening making bears. Marinette didn't even realise she was hungry until her dad came up to her bedroom with a plate of tiny quiches and a bowl of salad, which they snacked on whilst applying the finishing touches, which included sewing together the various body parts, and adding eyes and a mouth.

Soon enough, two toys sat before them. The first was immaculate. Silver-grey with verdant accents and neat stitches. If Marinette hadn't just spent the last few hours making it, she thought it looked as if it could have been bought from a shop.

The second didn't. It was made well enough, and she knew the seams were strong, but it was definitely _hand-made._ From the mismatched fabrics to the slightly wonky eyes and one leg being a tad longer and slightly less stuffed than the other, it was far from perfect. But it did have a certain charm about it, and the more she looked at it the more she decided it was one of the best teddy bears she'd ever seen.

Not that she often went around rating cuddly toys.

Whoever Luka gave it to would be very lucky to receive it. She nearly said as much, but judging by his previous reaction, that would be a bad idea.

"What's your one called?" Luka asked, smiling fondly at the toys. "Adrien junior?"

Marinette snorted and gave him a light shove. "No. That's a stupid name. I'll let Adrien name it."

"What if he calls it Adrien junior?"

"He wouldn't!"

"He might."

When Luka left not long later, after he realised he'd missed a fair few texts from his sister, Marinette set about tidying up their supplies. Luka had refused point blank to take the remnants of his fabric home with him. "After all," he'd said, stuffing Hamish into his bag, "what am I going to do with them?"

With her bedroom as tidy as it had been before they'd arrived—which wasn't very tidy—Marinette placed the grey bear on her desk and tied a green ribbon around its neck.

No note, she decided. Just give it to him and tell him you love him.

Tikki, who was in a rather irritable mood as she'd been forced to spend the entire afternoon cooped up in a small handbag, chewed on a cookie as she floated over to sit on Marinette's shoulder.

"It's good," she said. A stray chocolate chip fell onto the floor.

"Thanks."

"Adrien Junior."

"Shut up."


	9. Day Nine: Letters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Letters, in which Marinette writes a letter.

**DAY NINE: LETTERS**

The bear had gone horribly, tragically, unbearably wrong.

Well, perhaps not horribly, tragically, unbearably wrong, but wrong nonetheless.

"It's not that much of a problem, Marinette," Tikki said, poking her little head out of the purse as they meandered home. It had snowed a little that day, and the pavement was still lightly frosted. "You can try again next week."

"It won't go any better," Marinette grumbled. "It's so lame. Why did I think a toy was a good idea? As soon as I take it out of my bag, everyone will laugh at me. And I can't exactly wrap it up."

"Why not?"

"It's awkward. And in a box it would be too big to wrap."

"What are you going to do then?"

Marinette sighed heavily, looking up to where the sun was struggling to set behind thick, pale clouds. "The original plan. I'll have to give it to him on the only day I won't look like a complete idiot. I'll give it to him on Valentine's Day."

* * *

For the next two hours, Marinette distracted herself from the impending terror of Valentine's Day by helping out in the bakery; clearing the counter, restocking goods and cleaning utensils. Then, when the shop closed, she left the bear on top of her chest of drawers and busied herself with video games before dinner.

She had almost— _almost_ —forgotten about her woes, nearly emptied her mind of Adrien and teddy bears, when she was called downstairs to eat. She turned her screen off and, like an omen, the bear appeared in the blank monitor. Her stomach writhed like a nest of maggots. She moved the bear to the chaise lounge on her way out.

After dinner, she surprised her parents by insisting on doing the washing up. Then, with no homework to be getting on with, and Tikki's disapproving stare when she reached for her games controller again, she deigned to face her problem.

The problem being, she had no idea how to present the bear.

Sure, doing it on Valentine's Day made the possession of a teddy bear mildly less embarrassing, but it also meant it was more likely to get lost in the myriad gifts Adrien would no doubt receive. Without a note or something to identify it as from _her_ , she may as well note give it at all, or suffer a repeat of Adrien's birthday scarf.

A gift tag would suffice, but was that not a bit boring? To Adrien, love Marinette. It oddly felt too forward, like she was forcing her love upon him. A note? No, she'd tried that already. A letter?

Although a note and a letter ought to be rather similar concepts, a letter seemed to hold more weight in her mind. Whereas as a love note was more a sweet nothing about love and admiration, a letter was more formal. A piece of writing wherein one lay their intentions out, much easier to tackle. No need for lists or traits to compliment; she needed only to say that she loved him and ask him to give her a chance.

She just needed to say it...nicely.

Rather than go through a small forest writing and scribbling out drafts in her notebook, Marinette opened up a word processor on her laptop.

_Dear Adrien_

_I love you_

_Please give me a chance?_

_Love,  
_ _Marinette_

Tikki giggled. "It's to the point," she commented. "It might need a few flourishes though?"

"I know…" Marinette moaned. She kept typing random letters, as though hoping the appearance of a 'T' or an 'O' would spark inspiration, but she usually ended up aggressively deleting them. Eventually, she had the following letter:

_Dearest Adrien_

_There are words that are easy to say and words that are hard to say. The danger of this is that sometimes the most important words are left unspoken._

_I have some of these difficult words for you, which I've only now found the courage to give you, with the hopes they'll make their way to your heart. If you give me a chance, I'll prove to you how true these words are._

_I love you._

_Yours,  
_ _Marinette_

She reread the letter a few times, hating how it sounded both clunky and overly grand, then sighed and let her head fall onto her desk. "This is so hard."

"No one said it would be easy," Tikki replied. "Is there anyone you can ask for help? Someone who's good with words?"

"Good with words…" Leaning back in her chair, Marinette went through a mental list of everyone she knew one-by-one. Alya did a lot of writing, but based on the cheesy and irritating posts about her favourite ship 'LadyNoir', she wasn't sure how good she'd be at love letters. Rose could probably come up with some lovely phrases, but perhaps a little too lovey-dovey for a confession letter. She was better saved for when she and Adrien were actually together. Mylène hated writing of all kinds, and Alix didn't have a romantic bone in her body. Juleka could help, but was often so unsure of herself that she rarely let people read anything she'd written. Marinette knew for a fact she had a binder's worth of song lyrics that had never seen the light of day.

Song lyrics…

Luka!

Marinette surged forward to grab her phone. Of course! Luka was the obvious person to ask. He was great with words; he'd be able to help.

Another part of her was also still curious about the person he liked. Hopefully the more she engaged with him on the subject of romance and crushes, he might become comfortable enough to divulge more.

She called his contact then put her phone on speaker. He picked up on the fourth ring. "Hi?"

"Luka! I need your help!"

"Are you alright?"

"I'm trying to write a letter for Adrien."

There was a long pause, during which Marinette worried the phone connection had broken, but then she heard a rustling sound and a clunk.

"Sorry," he said. "Just putting my guitar down. How can I help?"

Marinette faltered. "Uh...I just, I'm struggling to make this letter sound...romantic, you know? And I thought since you write song lyrics maybe you'd be able to help?"

"I'm happy to help, Marinette, but I'm not sure how I can exactly. Do you want me to read what you've done?"

"No," she yelped. "No no no. It's really bad."

"Well-" he laughed. "I can't write it for you. Difficult to write a love song or letter for someone I'm not in love with."

"Maybe you can tell me your process?" Marinette asked, scrabbling to find paper. Typing would be too loud and might drown out her phone speakers. "How do you write your love songs?"

Assuming he wrote love songs. Truth be told, most of his songs were about other subjects. Perhaps she could sneakily wheedle out some more information about his mystery crush…

"I don't really have a process," he admitted. "I start with music, I suppose, but that won't help you. When I have some vague idea of tune, usually a phrase will pop into my head and I base it around that. If it's a love song I just think about-" He stopped himself. Then he sighed. "Words and ideas come to me in scraps and I tweak them to fit the tune."

"What if you don't have a tune in mind?"

"I have bits of lyrics without tune," he said. "They just come to me, you know. Sometimes—um, well, you've already guessed. Sometimes when I think about...a certain person, I just think of them, you know? She's my main source of inspiration. My muse, I suppose."

"Can I hear some of your lyrics?" Marinette asked, though it wasn't until the words were out of her mouth that she thought perhaps she was being invasive. "You don't have to sing them, of course. Just...maybe she can inspire me too?"

Another long pause as he considered this. "I…" His sigh shook slightly as though he was laughing. "If you promise not to laugh."

"I would never!"

"Hold on, let me find some…"

There was more rustling on the line. Marinette grinned silently at Tikki who beamed back.

"Found some. Uh, these aren't finished. I haven't found tunes for these yet." He cleared his throat in an awkward, self-conscious way that didn't suit him. "She's the cooling river across my skin, she's the burning in my chest. There are stars in her soul—you can see them in her eyes. She's brighter than a summer's day, mysterious as the winter moon… Um…"

"They're really beautiful, Luka. If I could write stuff like that this letter wouldn't be so hard…"

"Uh, thanks…" She could practically hear him blushing. That was unusual too. "They're not finished, though. When I find the right song for them, I'll probably change them."

"I hope you don't change them too much," Marinette said. "Who is she, anyway? She must be pretty amazing. Someone at your school?"

She knew by his lack of answer that she'd gone too far. "Uh… Look, I'm really sorry, Marinette, but I have to go. I have some essays due tomorrow I've been conveniently forgetting about all week, and-"

"I get it, it's cool," she said hurriedly. "Thanks for your help, Luka."

"Any time," he replied. He ended the call.

Marinette huffed and put her phone at the far side of the desk. That hadn't helped at all. In fact, it had made it worse. Her letter, which she hadn't liked before, now seemed bland and unfeeling compared to Luka's poetic words. And when she tried to emulate his style, all her brain came up with was…

He's...perfect. He's...a prince. Prince charming. Perfect prince charming. He…

Growling, Marinette screwed up the paper she'd been scribbling on and hurled it at the bin.


	10. Day Ten: Composition

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Composition, in which Marinette breaks into someone's home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm diverging from the canon a little bit in the way certain Miraculous holders are chosen. I've described it in more detail below, but basically it's just a way for Marinette/Ladybug to not know that Luka is Viperion (because I'm a sucker for the 'don't know who the other is' trope, haha)
> 
> Also, thank you to everyone who has read/commented/given kudos thus far. It means a lot to me. Sorry chapters have been kind of rubbish so far - the only way I've been able to upload each chapter on time has been by uploading literally as soon as I've finished writing it, so these are all first drafts. Maybe after wards I'll go over them and flesh them out a little. 
> 
> Anyway, I'll shut up now.

**DAY TEN: COMPOSITION**

Saturday passed by in a daze of video games and a particularly difficult akuma. So difficult, in fact, that Ladybug had been forced to call in for help from the other Miraculous Holders by sending out a message on her yo-yo with her location and hoping that Rena Rouge, Carapace, or Viperion were nearby.

With it being a Saturday, and most of the holders seemingly chosen from teenagers, nearly the entire team turned up. The akuma, upon seeing all five holders with nothing better to do on the weekend than beat the hell out of some emotionally unbalanced Parisian, all but surrendered.

She only knew the identity of some heroes: Ryuko was Kagami and Pegasus was Max. Queen Bee had revealed herself as Chloé, thus ruining her chances of being chosen again, but of Carapace, Rena Rouge, and Viperion she had no idea. The Guardian had chosen them; a trial run at first, but eventually he had given them permanent ownership of the Miraculous with the instructions to only jump in if asked or if the akuma was proving too strong for Ladybug and Chat Noir.

Ladybug was grateful for the Guardian's forethinking in this regard. After all, it would be a pain to have to leave the fight to go appoint specific holders every time an akuma proved too difficult, although Rena Rouge had, at first, been a little too eager in jumping into battle.

On Sunday, Marinette had woken up thinking she might spend the day on some designs or a new project, when she discovered in her school planner a piece of maths homework due the next day that she had forgotten about. Her maths book, which she would need for the homework, was in her locker at school, and so she texted her friends for help.

Alya replied that she was super busy all day and couldn't help.

Rose apologised that she was away in Amiens for the day with her family.

Neither Alix nor Mylene even saw her text.

Juleka, however, replied that she also needed to finish the homework and that Marinette was free to come over so they could work on it together.

And so, with a bag stuffed with notebooks, pencils, and maths equipment, she set out onto wintry streets. No snow last night, but the temperature was in the minuses, and a small amount of rain had frozen solid on the pavement, creating a glassy maze of opportunities to fall over.

Marinette navigated the icy streets, slipping only a handful of times, and doing no more damage than a sprained wrist that would heal in a day. When she arrived at the Couffaine houseboat, she shouted her greetings—as usual—but heard nothing in reply.

Odd. Usually the captain at least could be found on deck, but there was no one around. The door was unlocked, so Marinette made her way down into the bowels of the boat, but found no one inside either. The kitchen was empty, Juleka's room abandoned, and the small lounge area at the front of the boat similarly devoid of people.

Next, she came to Luka's room. She knocked; no reply. The door was slightly ajar, so Marinette only needed to give it a very gentle push to open it enough to peer inside.

Luka sat at his desk facing away from the door, guitar neck peeping over his shoulder, recording programme open on his computer screen. A large pair of headphones mussed up his hair. She could see his fingers moving up and down the fretboard, and his elbow bobbing as he strummed and plucked further down the body. The sound produced was faint, like he was plucking at ghost strings.

She knew she should have announced her presence instead of lurking in the doorway, but it was so...interesting watching him create music. At least, that's what she thought he was doing; truth be told he might have just been fiddling with his guitar, but then she noticed a lead trailing from the guitar into a small box beneath his desk, a red bar on his screen which gradually grew longer.

Marinette waited until he pressed a button on his keyboard, slid the headphones off of one ear, and let go of the guitar neck. Before she could announce herself, he spoke up.

"You can sit down."

"How did you know?"

He turned in his chair, grinning. "Sixth Sense."

"I thought that was for ghosts?"

"Maybe you are a ghost."

Marinette giggled but nonetheless went to sit down on the bed as Luka propped the guitar against the wall and completely removed his headphones.

"So," he said, leaning back with folded arms and an easy smile, "what can I do for you?"

"I came to work on some maths with Juleka, but…"

"Ah. She should be back soon; she had to run out for...something. I'll be honest, I wasn't listening."

"Too busy with your music?"

"Yeah. Wanna listen?"

"Yes!"

Luka laughed. He twisted a small knob on the side of a small speaker then pressed a button. Gentle chords strummed on an acoustic guitar; a soft drum eased in underneath, like a heartbeat at rest; rhythmic thuds of a bass; then, finally, a gentle, lilting tune picked out on clean-toned electric.

The whole piece was only a minute long, but it was beautiful. She was disappointed when it ended.

"Does it have a name yet?" Marinette asked.

Luka shook his head. "Nah, not yet. I never usually get as far as a name… Composition 54, I suppose."

"What sort of song will it be? It sounds…" She frowned as she pondered the song—slow, but not melancholy. "It sounds romantic."

An odd look crossed Luka's face; an expression caught between concern and dejection. As quickly as it came, it was gone. "I suppose it is," he said.

"Is it for the girl you like?"

He seemed to meditate on this before simply replying, "Yes."

"Are you going to give it to her when it's finished?"

For some reason he let out a single, hollow laugh. "I don't think that'll happen."

Marinette's shoulders fell. "No? Why not? I'm sure it'll be amazing when it's finished."

"That's the problem," he said. "It'll never be finished. I've started so many songs for her and about her but I've never finished one." He minimised the music programme and pulled up a file with several songs listed with numbers for titles. He shifted to the side so the screen was more visible and scrolled through the list. "None of these are done."

"Why not?"

"I, uh." He sighed, raking his hand through his hair, messing it up even worse. "I don't know how. No, that's not right. I can't make them...right. I can't get them to sound like they do in my head, you know?"

Marinette nodded; she understood the feeling perfectly. "I have the same problem when I'm designing things," she said. "I can see them perfectly in my head but when I try to sketch them out...they never look the same."

"It's a pain," he agreed. He stood up and crossed the room to sit beside her on the bed. "The answer is obvious, of course."

"It is?"

"Yeah," he said. "Just...become perfect."

"Oh, ha ha." Biting back a laugh, Marinette shoved him with her shoulder and grinned when he pretended to be knocked down. "I thought you were going to say something useful!"

"Life's full of disappointments," he replied with a breezy smirk. "I, apparently, am one of them."

"Don't try that whole 'talking yourself down to make me feel bad' thing. I'm not falling for it."

"Another of life's disappointments."

She grabbed his arm and tugged him back into an upright position. "Sucks for you."

They sat for a while in amicable silence, listening to the winter winds graze against the window and feeling the current gently rock the boat. "So," he said suddenly. "Maths, huh?"

"Maths," she repeated. "I should have done it yesterday but I...didn't get around to it."

"Yeah? Busy day?"

"I had a lot of video games to play," she replied solemnly. "And then there was the-" she faltered—she'd nearly said akuma attack, which would have been very odd for Marinette to say. But Luka was looking at her expectantly so she had to say something. "The, uh...the letter!"

"Still working on that?"

Well, no. She hadn't looked at it since Friday, and honestly had no intention of even thinking about it until the day before Valentine's Day. "I just want it to be perfect," she said.

"Just…" He paused, frowning, unsure. And, was it her imagination, or was he leaning closer? "Just make sure you're not writing love letters for people who don't write them back, okay? You, well, you deserve a thousand love letters."

Perhaps it was the sweet words, or his soft, sincere voice, or the gentle light in his eyes, but Marinette found herself unable to speak because her face had broken out in a hot flush and her heart was thumping in double time and her mind had gone as blank as her maths homework.

The spell broke when Luka leaned back to grab his phone from his bedside table. "Thousand love letters...I could use that in a song…"

"It would be a good title," Marinette said, pulling herself out of her daze.

He typed something on his phone, still looking thoughtful. "Maybe I'll write a song for you and call it that."

"If you do you'd better let me listen to it, finished or not."

"We'll see," he said as upstairs they heard the sound of a door opening and shutting. "We'll see."


	11. Day Eleven: Cupid's Arrow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cupid's Arrow, in which Marinette goes to school.

**DAY ELEVEN: CUPID'S ARROW**

Monday.

February 13th.

_One day left._

With frost-cold butterflies whirring like a storm in her stomach and chest, Marinette marked the day with an _X_ on her wall calendar. She took several deep breaths, clipped the pen lid back on, and dropped the marker on her desk. It rolled loudly across the wood then clattered on the floor.

"One more day," she muttered. "One more day. Then it's tomorrow. Then...oh, Tikki, I can't do this."

"Why not?"

"I'm scared. It's going to go wrong, _again."_

"Marinette." Tikki's sharp tone and unimpressed glare was enough to shut her up. "What happens will happen. Even if it goes wrong, it doesn't matter. Would you rather not do it at all and have to live with the regret?"

Marinette pursed her lips. Honestly, not doing it at all was sounding more and more appealing, but she knew that Tikki was right. She _would_ regret it. And even if she didn't, Alya and the others would be sure to change that.

Even so, usually when cooking up a confession scheme, the trepidation was overshadowed by daydreams of romance and hope. But this time the trepidation was stronger, and no amount of hopeful romance could overpower it. Instead, there was a distinct lack of conviction, supported by an undercurrent of nausea.

"I'll do it," she mumbled. "Even if it goes wrong. I'll do it."

* * *

All in all, the day had been unremarkable. The final lesson, history, consisted of a long, dull lecture about the Franks and Charlemagne and possibly something else that Marinette hadn't paid attention to. She had been too busy staring across the room at the window where a couple of older students were lounging beneath a tree. At one point during the lecture, the couple stood; one walked away, and the other lingered for only a few more minutes before slumping out of view.

The scene made a sick feeling bloom in Marinette's stomach. It looked too much like an omen; a confession going wrong, leaving one party embarrassed and awkward, and the other in despair.

Or, she told herself, forcing her eyes back on the teacher, they were just friends going separate ways for the day, or a pair of lovers who had other engagements.

However, when the lecture had finished and she was finally free for the day, she suspected that her first thought had been correct. No sooner had she stepped through the door into the winter sun than an arrow shot past her nose and buried itself in the grass several feet away. Unless King Charlemagne had finally awoken to take back France and Germany, there was only one explanation.

Akuma.

Marinette attempted to turn around and go back inside so she could find somewhere private to transform, but a solid wall of students trying to leave stopped her. Chloé was among them, and by her rapidly pinking face she was growing frustrated.

"What are you doing, Dupain-Cheng? Stop blocking the door!" She shoved, hard, and Marinette tumbled out onto the pavement. Students poured out around her, unaware of the danger. She almost thought she'd imagined it, but there was the arrow, gleaming weakly. So where was the…

Another arrow, bright silver but glinting red, slammed into the pavement next to her foot. This caught the students' attention, and all of a sudden they became a stampede; some trying to run as far from the school as possible, others struggling to get back inside to relative safety. Marinette could barely get up in the rush, let alone find somewhere private. If she wasn't too careful, she would end up getting injured before she could transform.

Then, suddenly, she wasn't on the floor anymore but instead sailing through the air, crushed against a warm chest. Chat Noir, she thought. He'd arrived, thank goodness. But she realised the arms were wrong. They were slightly larger, more padded with muscle, and clad in teal instead of black. When she looked up, she found Viperion's serious face above hers, lips pulled taut as he vaulted away from the school, arms wound tight and comforting around her body.

It must be nice to be a civilian instead of a superhero. That way she could enjoy this little ride then go home and daydream about the handsome hero without instead having to double back immediately and join in the fight.

Her face flushed; was it betraying Adrien to think Viperion handsome? To distract herself, she squirmed a little to peer over his shoulder, looking for signs of the akuma.

Viperion may have taken this as a sign she wanted to be put down and stopped in a quiet side street. He placed her gently on the ground, his vibrant eyes flicking up and down, searching for signs of injury. "Are you alright?" he asked. She suddenly noticed that his face was bleeding from a long, thin cut across his cheek. He also looked slightly unwell; pale-skinned and bright-eyed.

"Are _you_ alright?" she retorted. "You're bleeding!"

He nonchalantly wiped the cut, smearing blood. His bracelet had been activated; why hadn't he gone back in time to stop himself getting hurt? "I'll be fine once Ladybug gets here," he said. "Speaking of, I need to go back. I haven't seen either of them yet. I think maybe they're in a class or something. This one's pretty dangerous."

"If I see them I'll tell them," Marinette promised. Viperion flashed her a smile, nodded, and turned to leave, but stopped when she called out, "Wait!" She fished a pack of plasters out of her bag—her emergency stash for the small cuts—and offered him one. "Sorry about the colour."

Surprise flashed across his face along with a faint blush as he took the plaster. "Thank you," he said and swiftly departed.

She waited until he was out of sight before opening her purse to give Tikki a wide-eyed stare. "How long has this akuma been out?"

Tikki shook her head. "I don't know. You'd best transform and help Viperion. He isn't used to close combat."

"You're right. Spots On!"

With her outfit donned, Ladybug swung out of the side street and practically flew back towards the school, eyes darting around for the akuma or one of her teammates, but she saw no sign of either until she landed on the roof of Françoise Dupont. Arrows littered the area, and she just caught sight of something leaping down into the courtyard. She sprinted across the roof, just as someone else joined her. Chat Noir with his ever-present grin.

"What's it today, milady?"

"I'm not sure. An archer judging by these arrows."

Chat Noir stooped down as he ran to scoop up one of the weapons. "Hmm, why do these look familiar?"

"Have you ever seen an arrow before?"

"Yeah."

"That's why."

As one, they leaped off the roof and landed elegantly in the courtyard. Students were huddled around the edges, pressing themselves against the walls as if this might afford them some protection. Viperion and the akuma were in the centre, locked in combat, too close together for the akuma to shoot.

The akuma was a male figure, broad-shouldered and narrow-waisted, wearing a toga. It was fastened on both shoulders by golden heart-shaped pins, and he wore matching sandals with straps winding up his calves. A large quiver was slung across his back, filled with silver, scarlet, and black arrows. His bow, he was using as a staff in his attempts to hit Viperion, who was defending himself with his lyre.

"Hawkmoth's struggling, isn't he," Chat Noir commented, leaning nonchalantly on his baton and shaking his head. "We've already had a cupid one. Who are you...Dark Cupid 2.0? Electric Boogaloo?"

"Very funny," Viperion grunted. "Could you guys help now?"

Chat Noir vaulted across the courtyard, foot extended, and landed a hard kick on the akuma, sending him careening across the tarmac. Viperion used the opportunity to sprint to Ladybug, breathing heavily. He looked a little more his colour, and his cut was covered by the pink plaster.

"Sorry, I'm not so good on my own," he panted. "I saw him turn outside the school. Tried to shoot someone with a red arrow, but I missed. Silver arrows are like, well, arrows. Real arrows. Not sure what the red ones do, then there are black ones."

Ladybug nodded as Chat Noir grappled with the villain. Although she felt a little guilty leaving him to fight alone, she needed to gather information to devise a strategy. "This isn't the first cupid-themed akuma, but the other one made people hate each other. Have you still got your Second Chance?"

He shook his head, as expected. "Had to use it earlier. He set himself up by the school entrance, to shoot students as they came out. Silver arrows. They do real damage—I think Hawkmoth's aiming to kill with this one. Or at least he's not above it… Had to make sure I could stop him. I know your Miraculous Cure would probably...I didn't want to take the chance."

Dread flooded her insides like a bucket of ice. Her eyes flickered to the plaster. "Did you stop him from attacking students?"

His eyes dulled; his lips tightened. "The second time," he murmured.

Another helping of ice as Ladybug realised it was _her_ who'd walked out the door first, and that arrow hadn't missed by much. And if he'd only stopped him the second time…

She coughed and swallowed down the nausea clawing up her throat. "Right. Good. Okay. So silver arrows are like real arrows. Red arrows...he tried to shoot a girl?" The couple outside the window; the boy walking away dejected. "Maybe they induce love or something. Black arrows could be hatred again."

"We might find out," Viperion said, nodding towards the akuma, who'd put enough distance in between himself and Chat Noir to pull a black arrow from his quiver, only to turn suddenly and aim it at Ladybug. "Look out!"

She didn't move fast enough, but Viperion did. He shoved her—hard—to one side then collapsed as the arrow hit his shoulder. There was no blood; the arrow disappeared into his skin as if it were merely smoke and mirrors. Ladybug watched him ease himself onto his arms and knees, face blank. She half-expected his lips to turn black, but they didn't. Instead, the whites of his eyes darkened, making the bright green irises stand out like a blazing ring of light.

"Viperion?" She stood and offered a cautious hand.

He looked at it, confused, then his face crumpled into disgust. He roughly grabbed her hand but instead of standing he tugged her down and pinned her to the ground. Despite his lack of experience, he was still physically stronger and soon had her squirming beneath him, lyre above his head, ready to slam it into her head…

"Ladybug!"

Viperion was swatted away like an insect by a rolled-up newspaper and skidded across the floor. Chat Noir flipped into view as Ladybug clambered to her feet, yoyo swinging, ready to defend herself. "You remember when Dark Cupid got you?" she asked.

New Cupid loaded a new arrow, silver, and Viperion stood with his lyre ready to throw.

"No," Chat Noir replied.

"That's what you were like. Hold him back for me, but don't hurt him."

"I would never."

"Go!"

Chat Noir kicked off to meet Viperion again, hand-to-hand whilst Ladybug sprinted towards the akuma. The arrow flew; she ducked to avoid it. Another arrow; she swung to the side. A third arrow; she ducked again and flung out her yoyo. It wrapped around his legs, and with a tug he crumpled.

"Good offence," she said, closing the distance and kicking the bow out of his hand. "But your defence is lacking. Now where's the akuma…Oof!"

Apparently, he still had some fight left in him. He delivered a two-legged kick which knocked her off her feet then grabbed a new arrow. Without his bow he was forced to use the arrow as a dagger which he tried to stab her with. Ladybug caught his hand, grunting at his brute strength. Hawkmoth was getting cleverer; he'd given this akuma a good weapon and enhanced strength.

With a second, louder grunt, she pushed New Cupid away, dislodging the yoyo from his legs, and made a run for the bow, glinting in the sunlight nearby. Ladybug managed to snatch it up, but moments later was tackled by a teal blur.

Viperion. _Again._ She needed to snap him out of it, but how? Using the bow to hold off his attempts at pummelling her, she thought back to Dark Cupid. A kiss had been what saved Chat Noir, but it was Viperion's _eyes_ that had changed, not his lips. Would it still work? Or had Hawkmoth closed up that loophole too?

" _You need to snap out of this!"_ she hissed. Even if a kiss _would_ work, there was no way she could land one on him when he was so intent on hurting her. Chat Noir, ever the posturer, and had taken time to taunt when he was infected, but Viperion was like a man possessed.

Speaking of, what _was_ Chat Noir doing?

With one teammate missing, and the other in a murderous rage, Ladybug had no choice but to summon her lucky charm. Awkwardly, as she was still holding off Viperion's assault, she threw her yoyo to the side and evoked the power.

A mirror materialised in her hand. In desperation, she held the mirror in front of her face, scrambling for some way of using it to either cure Viperion or get him off of her. Then, suddenly, both happened at once.

"Ladybug?"

He stopped trying to attack, and when she lowered the mirror she found his eyes had turned back to normal. "Viperion?"

He quickly climbed off of her, raising a hand to gingerly touch the plaster on his cheek. "What happened? Was I-"

"The akuma. Where is it? What object?" she interrupted. New Cupid had done enough damage as it was. "You saw him turn, right?"

He nodded, still looking dazed. "Bag. He had a bag…"

"The quiver," she muttered, standing. "It must be the quiver."

But the akuma had disappeared, and Chat Noir was...chatting to one of the students? Growling, Ladybug marched over to him and grabbed his shoulder to spin him around. "Chat, what are you-"

She stopped abruptly. His eyes had turned pink. "Ladybug? Sorry, can I just finish this-"

"No, Chat! Akuma! Come on!"

He sighed dramatically and reached for the hand of one of the students. "I'm sorry, _mademoiselle_ , but I have to just save Paris real quick."

" _Chat!"_

"I'm coming!"

They eventually found the akuma behind the school, pointing a red arrow at the face of a quivering young woman. Fortunately, he hadn't noticed them yet; he was too busy moaning at the poor girl, who was desperately trying to placate him.

"Chat, I need you to use cataclysm on the quiver," Ladybug whispered. "That's where the akuma is." She rolled her eyes when he only pouted in response. "Then you can go back to flirting."

Still pouting, he nodded and slunk forward. Ladybug prayed to whatever powers may be that nothing else went wrong, that he was able to just destroy the quiver, release the akuma, and then they could all go home.

Apparently, the powers that be heard her prayer and, more outstandingly, granted it. The quiver disintegrated, the akuma slipped free, and Ladybug snapped it up in her yoyo. With one hand she set it free, purified, and with the other she threw her mirror into the air to reset everything.

New Cupid dissolved into a dishevelled teenager, Chat's eyes turned back green, the plaster disappeared from Viperion's face.

Finally, it was over.


	12. Day Twelve: Proposal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Proposal, in which Marinette proposes.

**DAY TWELVE: PROPOSAL**

Viperion scarpered immediately, and Ladybug would have followed suit if Chat hadn't attempted to ask her out on a Valentine's Day date—which she rejected, though she wasn't sure if he'd accepted that.

When she was finally able to get away, she only made it as far as the side of the school building when her transformation dropped. "That was _exhausting,"_ she muttered, stretching her arms above her head until they clicked. "I hope we don't get another love-themed one tomorrow…"

Tikki nodded in agreement as she nibbled on a cookie, but her eyes were dull with worry. Ushering the kwami into her purse, Marinette set off around the building, intending to go straight home and have a nap before starting on her homework. However, as she neared the front, she found a familiar figure sitting on a low brick wall.

Luka, looking at his phone. She couldn't see his face as he sat with his back to her, but from his slumped shoulders and the knees curled into his chest, he looked either tired or nervous, or maybe both. Before she could call out to him, her phone began to buzz in her pocket.

_Luka calling…_

Were they meant to meet up? Had she forgotten to put it on her calendar? Perhaps he just wanted to ask her something, but then why was he loitering outside her school? Maybe he was waiting for Juleka, but she'd no doubt left already.

Marinette pressed the _reject call_ button as she approached him, surprised when his whole body suddenly drooped and he raked his hand through his hair. Maybe he was panicking about something and was looking for a friendly word…

"Hey," she said loudly, startling him. "What are you doing out here?"

He looked ill. His skin was pale and his eyes were dark and haunted. He stared at her, almost disbelieving, then stood from his perch and jogged the distance in between them.

"You're alright," he said, hand raised as if to touch her arms, as if to check she was real and not an apparition. His voice was strained and weak.

"Are _you_ alright?" Marinette asked with an odd sense of déjà vu. "What's wrong? You're acting...weird."

"Sorry," he muttered, his hand returning to his already messy hair. "One of those days, you know?"

"Are you sure? You're really worrying me, Luka."

"I appreciate it, but I'm really fine." His smile was forced.

Clearly he wasn't, but she didn't want to push him. Instead she held up her phone. "So, what can I do for you?"

"I...just wanted to hear your voice."

How...unexpectedly romantic. Marinette fought down the blush threatening to stain her face and busied herself putting her phone in her bag as an excuse to look away until she'd regained her composure. "Why are you hanging around outside my school then?" she asked. "Are you waiting for Juleka? I think she's already gone."

"No, I was just passing," he replied. "Can I walk you home?"

"Sure."

They walked first in silence. Luka gradually returned to a normal colour, and his mouth tilted into his usual easy smile. His shoulders relaxed, and when he spoke up to ask how her day was, his voice had loosened.

Usually, it would only take a few minutes to walk home, but Marinette led him on the longer, more scenic route through the park, just in case he decided he wanted to tell her what was really wrong. He didn't reveal anything, but at least he no longer looked as though he was going to collapse or throw up.

He had looked, she realised as he talked about something-or-other that had happened at lycée that day, like she'd felt that morning: bogged down with the terror of confessing something deep, soul-deep, and sick with the fear of being rejected and embarrassed. Maybe that's what was bothering him, the girl he liked. Was he going to confess to his crush too?

Well, she thought, considering the number of people who had told her she ought to just confess and get it done with, maybe he needs to do the same. So, when he had finished speaking—she caught the tail end of something about a music concert his school was going to put on—she took control of the conversation.

"I have a proposal for you."

"What, like a marriage proposal?"

He laughed as she elbowed him. "No, you doofus. A proposal like in an idea."

"I do like ideas."

"If I confess to Adrien tomorrow," she continued, watching his face morph into something akin to discomfort, "you have to confess to this girl you like."

He turned away, mouth pursed. "I don't think that's such a great idea."

"Why not? You're great, Luka. She'll probably be thrilled that you like her."

"She won't. She's...well." He rubbed the back of his head; his fingers were soon lost in the thick jungle of his hair. "I already know she doesn't like me that way. There isn't really much point in putting it out there and getting my heart broken properly."

"How do you _know_ she doesn't like you?" she pressed. "She'd be crazy not to!"

Marinette very nearly gave a lecture about all the reasons this mystery girl ought to like him; after all, she'd written all of the material she needed when she had been attempting a love note, but she barely managed to get the first word out when Luka shook his head with a painful expression.

"I know she doesn't," he said sadly, "because she's in love with someone else."

"Oh." No wonder he looked so upset. Marinette thought back to her double date at the ice-skating rink, and remembered the anguish she'd felt when Adrien asked for her help in dating someone else, and the pain when she watched him and Kagami skating together.

It was a feeling she wouldn't wish on anyone.

Well, perhaps Chloé and Lila deserved it, but she doubted either of them were capable of really loving anyone but themselves enough to suffer true heart-break.

But not Luka. Not sweet, thoughtful, selfless Luka.

"I'm sorry," he said suddenly, clearly taking her lack of response to be an awkward silence. "I shouldn't have unloaded like that. You must think I sound like a bit of a creep now. Writing songs for someone who doesn't want me."

"No! You're not a creep!" she yelped. "Luka, it's _romantic._ You'd only be a creep if you, I don't know, broke into her house to serenade her at midnight or something."

"Ah!" He threw his hands up, feigning a look of annoyance. "There go my plans for tomorrow."

"Luka!"

"I suppose there's always plan B: kidnap her and keep her chained up under my bed."

" _Luka!"_ She tried to sound serious despite her giggling, not made any easier by his laughter. "No! There's only one clear solution."

"Oh?" One side of his mouth quirked up in a playful grin. The expression suited him a little too well and Marinette nearly forgot to reply.

"You have to murder her and the person she likes," Marinette said. "It's what Shakespeare would want."

"You are a woman wise beyond your years."

"Finally! Someone realises it."

By the time they reached the bakery, Marinette felt in far better spirits and Luka looked it too. However, when they reached the front door, and she turned to say goodbye, she found that haunted look had bled back into his eyes as he stared at her. Not her face; just slightly below. Her neck. Did she have a dirty mark? Had the collar of her jacket gotten rucked up? Had she dribbled some of her lunch down her chin?

She went to touch the spot, but then his eyes shifted up and he smiled. "Have a good evening, Ma-Ma-Marinette. I hope tomorrow works out for you."

"Too you! I mean, you too!" she scrambled, prompting a chuckle from Luka before he turned and left. She watched him walk down the street, his hands tucked into his pockets, head tilted back as though gazing at invisible stars. Then he turned a corner and was gone.

Inside, Sabine was wiping the bakery counter with a damp cloth. "Your father is in the kitchen," she said, tilting her head towards the door. "He has some left over dehydrated passion fruit and tempered chocolate. We thought you might like to use it to make some sweets for your friends for tomorrow?"

"Thanks, _maman."_ Marinette gave her a hug and a kiss on the cheek. "That sounds like a good idea."


	13. Day Thirteen: Kisses

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kisses, in which Marinette has a crisis

**DAY THIRTEEN: KISSES**

The chocolate kisses came out perfect, thanks to her Papa's expertise. The chocolate was beautifully tempered to produce a smooth sheen, and the flakes of passion fruit were like nuggets of gold. Marinette found another confectioner's box and arranged as many kisses as she could inside, then tied a length of golden ribbon around it to keep the lid shut.

She put the box, the bear, and the letter all in a bag, put it on her desk, and stared at it.

This is it, she thought. One more sleep, then she had to do it. She had to tell him. She would take it to school, wait for him by his desk and when he arrived…

No. She would go to school early, ask Tikki to help her open his locket, hide the bag inside and then…

No. She could text him and ask him to come to school early again, wait for him outside, and…

No.

"I'm overthinking," she muttered, clambering up to her bed so she could lie down and stare at the ceiling. "All that matters is that I give it to him."

She gazed across at the photos of Adrien littering the wall. His gentle smile, his bright green eyes, his perfectly coiffed hair. She tried to imagine how he would react to receiving her gift. She hunted through her pictures for the correct expression. Surprise, bemusement, joy? Then his eyes would soften and he'd thank her and then…

Usually, the daydream would continue playing: he'd sweep her off her feet, administering a mind-blowing kiss, whisper that he loved her and that he'd die if she didn't agree to be his girlfriend, and then they'd date through school and lycée, and then get married and have three kids and that hamster…

But today, it wouldn't play. Today, her mind stuck on the acceptance of the gift and would go no further. When she forced herself to think about him sweeping her into his arms, her stomach twinged uncomfortably. Too forward for him, perhaps. Maybe he would just take her hand, kiss and her fingers.

Her stomach twinged again.

Marinette looked for another picture. All of these were taken from magazines and fashion websites; they were fake. Forced. Perhaps if she tried staring at a real picture of a real smile…

Her eyes alighted on a photograph taken on the Liberty. Adrien was there, sandwiched between herself and Kagami, smiling at the camera, one arm raised in a wave.

Marinette sighed fondly at the memory. It had been a hot summer's day, and Kitty Section had thrown an impromptu concert for their friends. Adrien had brought Kagami, and afterwards everyone gathered in a large group so Anarka could take a picture.

It was Luka who'd given her the copy, saying he knew she liked photographs of memories, though part of her wondered if it was because he knew she'd like a photograph of herself next to Adrien.

Luka. Marinette sighed again. Poor Luka, stuck with his unrequited love. She wished there was some way to cheer him up, but she couldn't think of anything. Maybe she could siphon off a few of the left-over chocolates for him? He never said no to free food, and she remembered how his face had lit up when she'd given him the first batch of chocolates for Adrien.

Suddenly, the sympathy she felt for him turned into something else. Something… sadder, shrouded in shadow and buried in the back of her heart. Without thinking, her eyes found him in the photograph on the Liberty, his lips tilted in his care-free smile.

She'd never noticed before, but he was standing right behind her.

The room felt stuffy and hot. Marinette sat up, disentangling herself from her blanket. She needed to think—or maybe she just needed to not think. Maybe she just needed to run and leap and soar until the messy knots tangling her heart were beaten undone and fell away. She grabbed the bag of spare chocolates—she wouldn't eat all of them, just a few to make sure they tasted okay—and called on her transformation.

A disgruntled Tikki was dragged out of her nest of blankets, and seconds later Ladybug was leaping from the balcony onto neighbouring rooftops.

For what might have been minutes or hours she swung across Paris, relishing the cold hair biting her skin and blurring her eyes. The moon was gleaming like a thin, fallen smile, and with the streetlamps below, there was less light pollution obscuring the sea of stars.

Ladybug didn't think. She tried not to feel. Just swing, fly, swing, fly, swing, fly, until she was half-way across Paris. The Seine glittered beneath her like a jewelled snake, ignited by a trail of small lamps on either side. She followed its course for a while, looping around Notre Dame, then down towards her favourite highstreet, the one stuffed with independent boutiques.

She nearly slammed into a brick wall when she noticed a figure sitting on top of an office block overlooking the Seine. One leg dangled over the edge, the other curled into his chest. In the gentle, silvery light of the night, his outfit gleamed turquoise.

"Viperion?" she murmured. He looked deep in thought, so Ladybug turned to leave him alone, undisturbed. But before she could disappear back into the night, she heard his voice.

"Ladybug?"

Oops. Well, perhaps he wanted company. She could do with some herself, and she had wanted to check up on him. He hadn't seemed himself during the battle today, neither to her nor Marinette. So, she turned back and came to sit next to him.

"What are you doing out?" she asked. "Not another akuma, is there?"

"Nah, just wanted to get outside for a bit," he replied. "I'm sorry about today. I… I attacked you. Sass remembered."

Ladybug slowly shook her head. "It wasn't your fault. Chat did the same thing during another Valentine's akuma. At least I didn't have to kiss you to snap you out of it." She tried to laugh, but his melancholy expression robbed any humour. "How did you snap out of it?" she asked. "I held up the mirror but I don't understand it did."

Viperion idly touched his cheek. "Just...reminded me of...something, I guess," he said. Then he smiled. "Maybe it was a magic mirror. Miraculous magic or something?"

"That's not really how it works," she said, but he only shrugged in response. "Also, I meant to ask earlier but you disappeared pretty quickly. Are you okay? You seemed upset about something and I was really worried."

He gave her an odd look, confused, perhaps. "Yeah," he said. "I just...I told you I used Second Chance to stop the akuma from taking out students. He...the first time, he shot someone. I saw her… And even though it technically didn't happen, I reversed that timeline and no one else remembers it… I do. And I can't just forget it happened, forget I saw it. She was…" He shut his eyes, one hand, moving to clamp the side of his neck. "I can't unsee it. I can't...stop seeing it. I saw her afterwards and she, I mean, she was alive. She was fine. She didn't know what had happened but all I could see was the arrow and the blood and…"

He sighed, exhausted. "I'm sorry. It's been on my mind all afternoon."

Ladybug didn't know what to say. She, as Marinette, had either been seriously injured or maybe even killed. And she didn't even remember. No wonder he had acted so strange when he carried her away from the school, no wonder he had seemed so tired during the fight. He wasn't dealing with just a villain, he was dealing with a near-murderer.

For a while, they simply sat and stared at the city, listening to the cars and people as they passed beneath. At one point, Ladybug produced the bag of chocolate kisses and offered him one. "They're passion fruit," she said, pouring a few into his hand. Then, noticing that the bag had the Dupain-Cheng bakery logo on it, she added, "I bought them earlier. From, uh, some bakery. I don't remember which one…"

"I know the one," he said. "They're good. Best one in Paris. Thank you."

"No problem."

Another silence followed as they chewed on their sweets. Viperion's melancholy morphed gradually into a wistfulness, accompanied by a smile so heartbreakingly sad that Ladybug felt her eyes tearing up at the sight.

She blinked her eyes clear and cleared her throat. "So, any Valentine's Day plans for tomorrow?"

"Nah."

"No girls you're interested in? Or guys?"

"Well…" He shifted uncomfortably and fidgeted with his lyre. "There is this one girl but it's not going to happen."

"No?" Ladybug's shoulders fell. What a miserable Valentine's Day this was shaping up to be; she was surrounded by people who felt doomed in their romantic endeavours, including herself.

"No. She's...well, she's amazing. She's creative and smart and kind and funny and, well, beautiful. She could have anyone she wants and it's not me."

"It's a shame you can't just tell her you're a superhero," she said with a small laugh. "There's no way she'd say no to you then."

He laughed as well but it was hollow. "I wouldn't want her to want me because of this," he said, gesturing to his mask. "Viperion _is_ me but...he's not all of me. I want someone to want me, just me, without the glamour of being a superhero, you know?"

"Yeah, I know," she replied. "That's how I feel about Chat Noir. Or, how I wish he saw it. He's in love with me, or so he says, but he's only in love with _this_ side of me. Me the superhero, not me the person."

"No romantic plans with the cat then this year?"

"Oh, he wishes. But no. I do have plans. There's, well, there's this boy. And I'm going to tell him I love him."

"What's he like?"

"He's…" Ladybug stopped. How could she describe Adrien. She thought back to her list. Perfect, handsome...generous? What else was there…

"Can't describe him, huh?" Viperion's smile was a little more cheerful now, amused. "Thanks, Ladybug. For listening. I feel a lot better after getting all of that out. It's lonely having a secret identity; not being able to confide in anyone."

"It is," she agreed. "But if you do need to talk, Chat and I can listen. We know what it's like. I suppose it's worse for you though, remembering all those timelines."

He shrugged. "Maybe. I should get going."

"Yeah, me too. I was meant to get a ton of homework done this evening. Instead I've been running around and eating chocolate." Laughing, she stowed the paper bag, still half-full, back in her yoyo. "Have a good evening, Viperion."

"You too, Ladybug."

With a final smile and wave, Ladybug threw her yoyo and launched into the night.


	14. Day Fourteen: Valentine's Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Valentine's Day, in which Marinette has an epiphany.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Valentine's Day, everyone!

**DAY FOURTEEN: VALENTINE'S DAY**

8am.

February 14th.

Valentine's Day.

Marinette was pacing around her room, mumbling to herself as her brain ran through every way this whole plan could go wrong. All of the ways Chloé could mock her, or Lila could twist the situation, or Adrien could reject her, or the rest of the class could laugh at her embarrassment.

"What do I do, Tikki?" she whined. "I can't do this. I can't, nope, not happening."

Tikki, looking decidedly bored, sat on top of the desk and said nothing.

"No, I have to do it," Marinette muttered, hoping if she sounded like she had some conviction, she could fool herself into _actually_ having conviction. "I will do it. I just have to...do it. But I don't know _how._ It's going to go wrong _again,_ I can _feel_ it. Oh, Tikki, _Tikki!"_

"Do you want my advice, Marinette?" Tikki asked, not moving from her spot, though her eyes did soften a little.

Marinette nodded, still pacing. "Yes…"

"Just be yourself!"

Myself?" she repeated. "I can't just be myself! Myself is complete moron! Myself is clumsy and ridiculous and overthinks and just isn't right!"

Marinette stopped as she realised what she had said. She looked at the bag on her desk. It wasn't right either. The bear was too perfect, too manufactured. It was what the shops sold. It was merchandise she happened to make, not something she had created. And the letter was just...nonsense. It was vague, vapid nothing. It was just words that sounded sort of poetic but really held nothing of value.

Nothing was...right.

"This...this isn't right," she murmured.

No wonder her daydreams wouldn't play anymore; no wonder her plans had all gone wrong; no wonder even the thought of confessing had made her feel sick instead of butterflies. It wasn't right.

"Don't you love him anymore?" Tikki asked.

Marinette swallowed thickly. Love? Was that really how she'd described this sickly, dominating obsession? _Love_. It had once sounded normal in her mind, in her heart. But now, when she said the phrase ' _I love you, Adrien'_ in her head, it sounded...wrong.

"No," she said.

Something snapped. Like there had been an iron band around her heart that suddenly burst. Something light and warm and comfortable flooded her chest, extinguishing the nausea rearing in her stomach.

"No?" Tikki tilted her head to one side, brow furrowed.

"No," she whispered, then again with more confidence. "No, I don't love. I...think I did. Or maybe I fooled myself into thinking I did. Love shouldn't be about change, or trying to be perfect. It should be about growth and...since I started loving him, I haven't grown. You're right; I should be myself. And if myself isn't right for him then I shouldn't change that. So no, I don't love him. Not anymore, and maybe I never did."

The warm, light feeling spread up her throat and into her head, down her arms and legs, to the tips of her toes and fingers, bubbling under her skin. She felt like she could fly; not as Ladybug but as herself.

"I'm proud of you, Marinette," Tikki said, her face crumpled around her wide smile. "That's not an easy thing to admit. But what are you going to do about that?" She pointed at the bag of gifts.

Marinette checked her phone; twenty minutes before she had to leave.

Just enough time.

First, she extracted the box of kisses. She fished out several smaller paper bags and poured an equal amount into each, tying them shut with another piece of ribbon. Then, she grabbed several large labels.

 _Alya,_ she wrote on one side with her nicest pen, and on the reverse: _I love you for your bravery._

Using her previous lists and love notes, she wrote a label for each of her friends, including Adrien:

_Adrien,_

_I love you for being a good friend._

And Luka:

 _Luka,  
I love you _(she paused at this as the weird uncomfortable sadness gnawed again at the back of her heart, and distracted herself reading through his list for the best word but couldn't narrow it down to just one) _for being you._

Then she placed the bags back into the box for safe keeping and slid it into her back. Next she found a notecard and in her best handwriting wrote: _Happy Valentine's Day!_

She propped the notecard in between the bear's paws. Swinging her bag onto her back, Marinette grabbed the bear and hurried downstairs. She put the bear on the bakery counter as a little bit of Valentine's Day decoration. After planting a kiss on her maman's cheek, she ran out the front door into the chilly day.

Her scarf fluttered around her neck in the breeze, and the long, pink skirt she'd made for the occasion flapped around her legs like a cape. The pavement, edged with ice, glittered prettily beneath a clear sky and the sun blazed cold in the east.

A beautiful day to celebrate love.

So what if it was the love of her friends she was celebrating.

For the first time since meeting Adrien, she finally had a Valentine's Day where she felt...happy. Not nervous or scared or antsy. Happy. Happy and free.

She was smiling stupidly by the time she reached her classroom. With ten minutes to spare, she opened up her box and distributed little bags of chocolate onto her friends' desks then sat down to wait patiently for them to arrive.

Rose appeared first, wearing a bright pink headband adorned with glittery hearts. "Ooh, Marinette! This is so cute!" she enthused as soon as she spotted the little gift. "Aww, I love you too!"

Alya arrived shortly after. "These are amazing!" she sighed, digging into hers straight away. Not unusual—if she brought sweets home they would soon be scoffed by her sisters. "Ooh, is that one for Adrien?"

Marinette nodded, ignoring the suggestive smirk on Alya's face. "Mmhmm."

Rose suddenly gasped. "Ooh, here he comes!" She rushed back to her desk where she sat on the edge of her seat, bubbling with excitement. She, Alya, and Marinette watched Adrien sit down, notice the little bag, and read the label. It took him a second to work out who it was from, but when he realised it turned in his chair with a winning smile.

"Thanks, Marinette. These look great!"

"Thanks, I hope you like them," she replied easily.

No stutter! Just a missed beat of her heart then...nothing.

Alya deflated next to her. "Is that it?" she hissed, leaning closer to Marinette. "What did you write on his card?"

"I said I loved him-"

"Good."

"-for being a good friend."

" _Marinette!_ " Alya moaned, shaking her head. "You can't reinforce the friendship stuff, or he'll never realise the love stuff! Did you get him something else? What about that teddy bear you showed me, and wasn't there a letter?"

Marinette grinned. "Nope," she said, loving the way it sounded. Nope, nada, nothing. Just friendship chocolates. No pressure, no worry.

"Why not?"

"It wasn't right," she said, shrugging.


	15. Day Fifteen: Satisfied

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Satisfied, in which Marinette redecorates.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kinda forgot to end this one properly. Oops.

**DAY FIFTEEN: SATISFIED**

It had taken until Thursday for Alya to finally stop pestering her about Adrien.

Marinette knew that really she ought to have told them about her revelation that she was no longer in love with him, but she wasn't ready yet. She hadn't fully realised it herself, and she wanted to be fully sure that this was the right course before she shared it with others.

So, as far as they were aware, she was just taking a break from romantic schemes. She was just concentrating on being his friend. Rose, who had seemed particularly distraught over the idea her ship 'Adrienette' might be sinking, still held on hope that this was just a phase and that deep down she still loved him.

Mylène was surprised and a little concerned but respected Marinette's decision.

Alix just didn't care.

And Juleka...Juleka also seemed uncharacteristically unbothered by the entire ordeal. If anything, she might have been relieved.

Not that Marinette had ever been particularly good at reading Juleka's emotions. That was something only Rose and Luka have ever been able to do.

Speaking of, Luka had been rather quiet all week too. After bumping into him on Monday, she had neither seen nor heard from him. She had half-expected a text on Tuesday or Wednesday, asking how her plans had gone.

Nothing.

Perhaps he'd taken her up on her proposal and had asked out the girl he liked, and perhaps he'd been rejected. Still, she had at least expected acknowledgement of the bag of sweets she'd given Juleka to deliver to him.

Several times she had started composing a text, but never finished. After all, if he had been rejected then it would make sense to blame her; she was the one pushing him. Or maybe there was something else; he hadn't looked particularly happy on Monday.

Whatever it was, she decided it would be best to give him space and time.

The grey and green teddy bear remained on the bakery counter all week as it had proved popular with customers and Marinette's parents were usually able to continue selling Valentine's themed goodies until a few days after the event.

Marinette was surprised, however, to wake up on Saturday morning and find the bear sitting on her desk. The notecard was gone, but in its place was a small cellophane bag containing three pink macarons and a card.

_Happy Valentine's, our darling girl_

_With all our love,  
Maman & Papa_

There was another addition too. On the bear's chest, over where its heart would be, someone had embroidered a tiny red flower with green leaves. Marinette smiled as she reread the note then found a new spot for the bear amongst the toys on her bed.

Next, she turned her attention to the myriad of pictures covering her walls. Adrien smiling; Adrien pensieve; Adrien leaping with abandon; Adrien leaning against a wall with a 'too-cool-for-school' pout. Photos ripped out of magazines; photos printed from websites; photos taken candidly at school…

The Marinette who had first pinned up these pictures now felt like a stranger. Someone separate from herself. Someone she'd moved on from.

The pictures came down. One by one, Adrien's faces fluttered to the bed and floor, revealing clean, bare wallpaper underneath. As she worked, Marinette felt like she was cleaning her heart as well, decluttering it from the messy feelings and obsessive love she had once felt. Then, she brushed the pictures into the bin. She even went into the photos on her phone and deleted all of the pictures she'd surreptitiously taken without his knowledge.

Scrubbed clean.

The only pictures remaining were the group photos. She and Alya having milkshakes; Rose and Juleka wearing matching berets at a street fair; Alix trying out a new roller-skating move; Mylène and Ivan eating ice cream; Nino and Adrien posing in front of a fountain.

The only candid ones she had kept were a couple of Luka playing guitar, just because she thought they were quite artistic and he might want them if he ever got somewhere as a musician.

He also had a tendency to pull a particularly serious expression when he was playing, one which was equal parts attractive and funny on his usually chill face.

With her walls cleared, Marinette pinned the card from her parents up next to the photo of Kitty Section's concert taken on the Liberty. Her eyes alighted on Luka again.

Enough was enough. She pulled out her phone and sent off a text before she could stop herself.

**Marinette: how was your week?**

**M: you feeling any better since monday?**

Nothing serious, just a check-in.

She slid her phone back into her pocket, clambered down to the main floor of her room, and opened up her little bag of macarons. Strawberry—her favourite. She broke one in two and offered half to Tikki, who had been reading a magazine all morning. She then popped the other half in her mouth, chewed slowly, and sighed. Happy, contented.

Satisfied.

* * *

**Luka: Sorry I disappeared  
** **L: Week was pretty boring so not much to report!  
** **L: Thanks for the chocolates by the way  
** **L: They were so good I might have eaten them all in one go**

**M: you glutton**

**L: I'm a growing boy!**

Well, he certainly seemed in higher spirits. In fact, if he hadn't revealed the hopelessly unrequited nature of his crush, she wouldn't have guessed anything was wrong.

**L: Juleka said you didn't go through with your plan?**

Ah, so that's why he hadn't asked; he already knew. At least, he knew some of it. Clearly Juleka hadn't told him everything.

**M: nah  
** **M: it wasn't right**

There was a long pause in between him reading the message and replying.

**L: How do you mean?**

**M: it wasnt right anymore  
** **M: i dont think hes right for me anymore  
** **M: you know?**

Somehow, despite keeping it from her friends, it felt wrong to lie to Luka about it. Then again, he'd been so supportive without ever pushing her or making her uncomfortable; she knew he'd accept her decision without pushback.

**M: can you not tell juleka tho  
** **M: i havent told the others yet  
** **M: i want to wait til im sure**

**L: My lips are sealed**

**M: ive even redecorated my room!**

Marinette took a quick photograph of her de-Adrienised wall and sent it too. A few minutes later he responded.

**L: Hang on, when did you take those pictures on the left?  
** **L: I don't remember them  
L: You sneaking pics?**

**M: maaaaaybe  
** **M: i liked your guitar face**

**L: Thanks?**

Tikki, clearly bored, sneaked across the desk to peer at the phone screen. "Who are you talking to?"

"Just Luka," Marinette replied, searching for the original guitar pictures to send to him. "I'm trying to work out if he's okay."

"Why wouldn't he be okay?"

"I don't know. I just thought maybe he'd be...sad?" Marinette sighed, idly grabbing a pencil to tap against the desk. "When I was after Adrien, it's not like I knew he was in love with someone else. But this girl he likes, he knows that she _is_ and…" Running out of words, she shrugged and sighed again. "Maybe I'm overthinking again."

**L: When did you take those?**

**M: last summer i think  
** **M: theyre good!  
** **M: you look so serious**

**L: I'm a very serious person**

**M: clearly**

"He seems fine to me," Tikki said. "And if he isn't then, well, maybe he just needs a friend? To distract him?"

Marinette mulled this over. He did _seem_ fine now, but she couldn't imagine that he truly was. The pain had been nearly unbearable when Adrien had gone on a date with Kagami. She also recalled Chat Noir's heartbroken expression when she, as Ladybug, had told him she loved someone else.

Not that that had stopped him from flirting with her for more than a week, but…she still felt sorry for him. And any time she rejected him afterwards and reminded him of the fact she was in love with someone else, he'd never reacted...well.

The more she thought about it, the more she realised Tikki was right. Whenever she was upset, she had found hanging out with friends worked as an ample distraction. So really, if she wanted to help Luka, what she needed to do was...hang out with him more.

And why not? She liked hanging out with him. No matter what they did, she being with him always put her in a good mood and made her forget her troubles. Maybe he felt the same? He was always smiling and laughing with her.

And on Monday he'd looked as if he was having a crisis, but within ten minutes of bumping into each other he'd returned to his usual cheerful self.

**M: you free tomorrow?**

**L: Think so  
** **L: Unless I'm working  
** **L: Which I'm not  
** **L: So yes**

**M: you wanna hang out or something?  
** **M: you can show me more of your music?  
** **M: maybe you can teach me some guitar ;)**

The winky face was a mistake—it was meant to be a smile. Fortunately, he didn't mention it.

**L: Sounds fun :) When do you want to come over? 2-sh?**

**M: that works :D**


	16. Day Sixteen: Drums

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Drums, in which Marinette confides in Luka.

**DAY SIXTEEN: DRUMS**

It was strange, not being in love with Adrien.

In many ways it was good. She stopped stuttering and stumbling over her words around him, which in turn lessened the amount of bemused looks he gave her. And now that she no longer pursued him, she had been able to take him off of the pedestal of perfection and instead see him as a real person, with flaws and faults. For the first time, she was able to just be herself around him, and joke around and laugh and tease like friends did.

For a week, her heart still missed a beat whenever he walked past, or when he gave her a particularly gorgeous smile—but that was natural. Just because she didn't love him anymore didn't mean she had forgotten he was still unfairly good-looking.

Though she had noticed a few features she'd never picked up on before. For instance, his eyebrows weren't as shapely as she had once thought, and his chin was a little on the weak side. A bit too feminine. It served him well in his teenage years, but once he matured she wasn't sure he would be able to get away with it.

(Luka had a nice chin, though...and his delicate features would probably grow with him.)

The only problem with getting over Adrien was that as well as feeling free she felt untethered. A mind like hers needed a focus, and without Adrien to focus on...

Her school work was improving as she could now concentrate in class, and homework took half the time without photos of Adrien to distract her. But there was still a hole in her mind, which was rapidly filling with trying to cheer up Luka. The only problem was that Luka... didn't need cheering up.

She could deal with people crying, or people fatigued with despair. She could deal with people who wanted to talk, and those who didn't. Empathy and understanding came naturally.

But Luka, for all intents and purposes, wasn't sad. He didn't cry, he didn't mope. He just acted normal, smiling through the pain. And it was infuriating.

"What is it?" he asked one Saturday. They were in his room: she was lounging on the bed, he was at his desk, admiring the gloves she'd presented him. (Her first attempt at Adrien's gloves—Luka had lost his and she thought he'd like the star constellations she'd decorated them with.)

"What's what? The glove? A glove." She smirked. "It keeps your hand warm."

"You're hilarious," he replied dryly. "I mean what's with you staring at me like that? Something wrong with my face?"

He must have felt her intense staring because he certainly hadn't been looking at her. Immediately, her cheeks grew a little warm.

"No," she yelped, so suddenly she startled herself. "Your face is great! Wait, that's not what I meant. No, not that your face isn't great, but..."

He laughed as she continued stuttering. "Thanks for these," he said, holding up one glove whilst wearing the other. "Fits perfectly, how did you know my size?"

"Lucky guess?" She grinned. "In thanks, I want to hear your music."

"Any requests?"

Marinette sat up a bit straighter, pulling the blanket around her like a cocoon. "I don't know, what are you working on?"

He turned to his computer screen which showed his music programme; black but with a few bars of colour denoting different instruments and parts. "You don't want to listen to that... I've barely started. Just a guitar and, well, still working on the drums. Then I'll probably re-record the guitar."

"When are you going to do the fun bits? The singing and stuff?"

"When I've done the guitar and drums, I suppose," he said. "I need to get the song anchored first. If you try to add stuff before you have a steady beat and proper timing, it won't come together properly at the end. Need to...lay the foundation first, you know?"

No, she didn't know, but she knew Luka knew what he was talking about so she nodded anyway. However, he must have realised that she hadn't understood because he opened up another song, one of Kitty Section's originals, and played it for her.

"Listen to this," he said. "You can hear the drums? They support the song, give it something to build around, keeping it steady and anchored. Yeah?"

She nodded again with a little more conviction. "Yeah."

"If I take the drums out-" he pressed a button and one of the coloured bars turned grey. "It's not quite right anymore. It's all in time still, but it's...what's the word...untethered? Like it could fly out of time at any moment."

Marinette listened. It certainly sounded more...uneasy now. It didn't thrum through her chest as it usually did. One of the guitars—rhythm, she thought—was doing its best to keep a steady beat with each chord but it didn't have the earth, the hard steadiness of the drums. It did, as Luka said, sound like it was likely to fly off, or be blown away by the wind. The lead guitar was weaker now, and slightly manic.

Something in it resonated inside her, but she could work out why.

"That's so weird," she commented as he unmuted the drums. "It's like it became a different song."

"So next time someone says the drummer isn't important, you tell them…"

"No-" she smirked- "but leader guitar's still more important."

He matched her smirk. "Exactly."

They listened to the rest of the song in a sort of reverent silence, until the final notes faded away. Luka closed it; his new unfinished piece reappeared.

"Do you have a name for this new song yet?" Marinette asked. "What's it about?"

"I, well, I have a working title," he said, sounding uncharacteristically unsure of himself. He began fidgeting with the hem of his jacket, then stopped himself by pulling his acoustic guitar onto his lap.

"Which is…?"

"Nope, not telling you."

She pouted, but he stubbornly shook his head again. "Well, what sort of song is it then? Is it about…" Marinette trailed off, stomach flopping as she realised what she had been about to ask.

But Luka, perceptive as ever, already knew and his playful grin softening. "What can I say," he murmured, "she's a strong muse."

Perhaps it was the hazy glimmer in his eyes, or the reverent smile, or the way his gentle and romantic heart peeped through the cracks in his bad-boy guise. Whatever it was, it made Marinette's insides writhe. She felt cold and hot and sick and strange. She felt...jealous, like when Chloé hugged Adrien, or when Lila had posted those pictures from Adrien's room online.

But jealous of what? Of Luka's crush? Because she realised she wanted someone to speak about her that way? To call her their muse and write songs about her? Because she wanted to be that girl?

Marinette tried to push those thoughts away; this wasn't about her. This was about Luka. Her mission was to make him feel better, not find something new for her to mope about. Besides, Chat Noir was always flirting with her and making romantic comments to her as Ladybug; shouldn't that be enough?

No, because the comments to Ladybug only made her feel uncomfortable and guilty, but the way Luka spoke about this girl was so pure and kind and respectful that it made her want to cry for him. But would the girl he liked feel the same if she knew? Would she be as creeped out? Would Luka respect her words if she asked him to stop writing songs?

Probably. After all, he respected her emotions enough to not even divulge his feelings at all. Chat Noir still thought she was in love with someone else and still made a move at every opportunity.

Luka's voice pulled her back into the present reality. "Marinette? Are you okay? You zoned out for a bit there."

"I-yeah! I was just thinking about, uh, hamsters?"

"Hamsters? You sure? Your face looked like...well, sounded like this." He played a succession of chords, each sounding...odd but not in a bad way. Expectant, perhaps. Confused.

No wonder no one had written a song about her—it would be a mess.

"Okay, I was actually thinking about-" she bit her lip and clenched her fists to stop herself twiddling her fingers. Luka, now playing a quiet, gentle melody, always knew when she was lying, and though she was sure he would drop it if she asked him too, part of her did want to get it off her chest. "I was thinking about this...guy."

The melody stopped abruptly. "A guy?" he repeated, playing again. "You moved on from Adrien fast…"

"Not like that," she said. "Actually, kind of the opposite. There's this guy who likes me. I've made it clear that I'm not interested in him like that but he doesn't stop trying. It's so annoying."

Luka's hand slipped, resulting in a horrible, sour chord. He hastily put the guitar back on the floor. "Anyone I know?"

Technically yes, she supposed. But she couldn't tell him that.

"No," she said. "No one you know."

He nodded slowly. "When you say you've made it clear…"

"I've told him we can't date and that I don't like him that way," she clarified.

Luka nodded again, frowning. "Then he's, well, he's being a, well, I won't say what he's being-" he smiled when she snorted. "But he shouldn't keep pressuring you like that. Can you tell some of your mutual friends? If enough people call him out, he might take the hint."

"The whole of-" she stopped herself before she could say Paris- "uh, our friend group no. Or, they've noticed but they all side with him. Sometimes I wonder if…if I'm the bad guy. If maybe I should give him a chance."

"Do you want to?"

"No."

"Then you shouldn't." He stood up, and she half expected him to launch into an impassioned speech about liberty and love, but instead he walked the two steps across the room to join her on the bed. "You shouldn't say yes just because people pressure you. It's not a real yes then, and if it's not a real yes it's a no. And if it's a no then he shouldn't keep trying."

"That's what I thought!" Marinette exclaimed. Finally, someone understood. "But literally everyone is on his side and it's just getting so exhausting."

"I'm sorry," he said quietly. "That does sound exhausting, and you shouldn't have to put up with it. Who are these people? I mean, if they're just friends then maybe...I don't want to tell you who you can hang out with and be friends with, but-"

"I know what you're saying, but these aren't people I can just cut out." She sighed, leaning her head against his arm, eyes shut. "Thanks, Luka. I haven't told anyone about this. I get worried that they'll just say the same thing as everyone else."

He shifted slightly, causing her head to slide against the front of his shoulder and chest so that his arm could curl around her. "I wish I could do something to help, but if they aren't listening to you I don't think they'll listen to me."

"You could pretend to be my boyfriend," she suggested with a faint laugh. "He might respect that." Although, knowing Chat Noir, he would probably whine about it being destiny then decide she and Luka would break up eventually because fate.

Then again, she could hardly tell Chat Noir that she was dating Luka because he might end up harassing him or try to find out her true identity, or…

She forced herself to stop thinking about that and realised Luka hadn't replied. She moved a little bit to look up at his face, which was clouded with concern. His eyes darted down and caught hers.

"You don't want him to give up just because of a boyfriend," he said. "He should give up because he respects you and you told him to."

"But he hasn't," she said. His face was still scrunched up with worry.

Was he really that worried about her? Did he think that this other guy was going to snap and murder her in an alley or something? Or had her joke about pretending to be her boyfriend—which he had taken far more seriously than she'd expected—somehow upset him.

Or...was he worried that the girl he liked thought the same about him?

"Don't worry, you're nothing like him," she said before she could stop herself. But he tilted his head questioningly, so she had to continue. "You're not launching yourself at this girl at every opportunity, or pressuring her to date you or anything." She smiled; he nearly smiled back. "I wish C- this other guy was more like you."

"Maybe he'll learn."

"Maybe," she murmured, doubting it. "So, are you going to tell me the title of your song now?"

"No."

He did, however, let her listen to a playlist of instrumental music he'd put together. Rock music, mostly, with hints of metal in the screeching guitar and punk in the punching drums. Music that suited him aesthetically, music that matched his piercings and dyed hair and painted nails and that tilted bad-boy smirk he saved for particularly witty retorts. But underneath that he was gentle and sweet and kind and…different music altogether.

* * *

When she walked home later that evening, she was a little disappointed Luka had refused to tell her anything about his new song. She hummed a few of the songs he had played for her, starting with his originals but eventually ending up on Kitty Section. She tapped her fingers against her legs in time with the drum beat in her head. And as she hummed and tapped, she imagined the song again without its drum beat and how strange it had sounded, and how it had resonated with her heart.

Then she realised why. Because it had sounded exactly as she felt: like a drumless song. A crazed guitar riff or mangled vocals, playing out their own tunes and melodies with nothing to anchor them. Nothing to keep them steady.

"A drum beat," she mumbled, pulling her coat tighter against the winter winds. "That's what I need."


	17. Day Seventeen: Riff

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Riff, in which Marinette learns a new skill.

**DAY SEVENTEEN: RIFF**

"Give me your Miraculous if you want to live!"

"In your dreams, flute boy!"

This was the wrong thing for Chat Noir to say. Today's akuma—a tall, thin figure wearing a cape and hat and holding a purple clarinet—raised his instrument to his lips and blew a sharp note which blasted Chat Noir directly into a building.

Finally, after several minutes since her distress call, Viperion arrived. "Another music one," Ladybug said as he crouched down beside her, sharp green eyes taking in the destruction before them. Buildings were smashed, cars flipped over, and even a few fires. "Do you think playing your lyre will distract him?"

"I can give it a go," he replied, thrumming the strings. "But just in case it doesn't work, _Second Chance."_

With his bracelet activated, Ladybug no longer knew how many attempts they'd had, or which timeline they were in. She hated the way it messed with her brain, but at least it meant the battle would finish faster and more neatly.

As she half expected, Viperion's face immediately crumpled into a grimace. "Music doesn't work. It just makes him play more. Different notes have different effects. A is just a blast, B makes you deaf. C breaks glass. D causes an earthquake. E makes you talk backwards. F makes you dance. G...I didn't stick around for that but I don't think it was good. We need to get the flute away from him. You've already tried snatching it with your yo-yo, and Chat Noir has tried to grab it by sneak attack and pure force. None worked."

Apparently, she'd missed a lot. "Have we tried Lucky Charm yet?"

"No."

"Then let's try it now." She called for her special power, and a red-and-black hose fell into her waiting hands. "What do I do with this?"

But Viperion was already looking at something over his shoulder. "I think I know."

* * *

The akuma was startlingly easy to defeat once they'd ruined his clarinet by dousing it in water. (Something about ruining the pads, Viperion had said.) After disarming him, they found his hand-to-hand combat was rubbish and needed only to tie him up with Ladybug's yo-yo then have Chat Noir disintegrate the wet clarinet to free the butterfly and restore order.

"I've got to go," Ladybug said as soon as the akuma was purified. "I'm late for something."

"Same," Viperion added. "Can you-"

"I'll sort it out here," Chat Noir said, arms folded and looking more than a little put-out. "You two go and do whatever you're doing...separately."

Ladybug rolled her eyes—of course Chat would get jealous over something as menial as leaving at the same time. "Thanks, Chat."

She threw her yo-yo and swung, heading in a straight line towards the stretch of the Seine where the Liberty was docked. However, as she free-fell a couple of feet whilst launching her next swing, she noticed Viperion running across the rooftops alongside her. She was so surprised—it was an unspoken rule to go in different directions—that she misaimed her yo-yo and would have fallen several feet to her death if she hadn't quickly re-thrown it at the next building and pulled herself up to the roof.

Viperion stood at the top and offered a hand to help her clamber up. "You alright?"

"Yeah, just missed…" she clapped her hands together to brush off some of the brick dust from her climb. "Anyway, I'm still late, so…"

He nodded, but when she began running again, he was still going the same way.

"You're, uh, you're not going to the Seine, are you?" she asked, adjusting her pace to match his.

"Yeah, I'm late for a- uh, something there," he replied, frowning. "You going there too?"

"Yeah…"

"Alright. I'll drop down and run without the costume," he said. "Just...don't keep an eye out for out-of-breath civilians because if you find one it will be me."

Ladybug disguised her relieved sigh as a laugh—she really hadn't wanted to run as Marinette or she would be even later. "Okay, deal. Thanks, Viperion."

"No problem." Smiling, he waved as he veered to the edge of the roof then jumped down.

Ladybug continued sprinting, all the way across several roofs until she spotted the Seine gleaming before her. She scaled down a wall, her earrings beeping their last warning, and managed to throw herself behind a bin just in time for her transformation to wear off.

Fortunately, she'd landed in an empty street, and thus there was no one to witness Ladybug jump behind a bin and reemerge as Marinette. With Tikki tucked away chomping through a cookie, Marinette took off on a brisk walk. She pulled out her phone with the intention of sending a quick message to apologise that she was running late… only to see several new messages on the Kitty Section chat.

**Rose: rehearsal still at 2 rite?**

**Ivan: 2? i thought it was at 3?  
** **I: im with mylene rn**

**R: u can bring her along!  
** **R: marinettes coming 2!**

**Juleka: i dont mind doing 3**

**I: whys marinette coming?  
** **I: mylene says shell come 2**

**R: she sed she wants inspo 4 som designs  
** **R: i think she just wants 2 ogle luka tho 0.0**

**J: ew  
** **J: gross**

**Luka: Can you blame her though? ;)**

**J: ewww**

**L: So we're meeting at 3?  
** **L: Good  
** **L: I was running late**

**J: youre not in your room?  
** **J: when did you go out?**

They were meeting at 3pm? Slowing down her pace, Marinette checked the time: 2.33pm. Thirty minutes...it wasn't enough time to go home and come out again, but it did seem a bit odd to arrive so early…but she could always hang out with Juleka for a bit… She read on.

**L: On my way back now. Only be a couple of minutes.**

**J: are you near a music shop? Bass strings are rekt**

**L: No**

**L: Coming from the other direction  
** **L: Get them yourself!**

**J: if i'm late its your fault**

**L: :P**

Alright then, she'd hang out with Luka.

As she neared the boat, Marinette spotted him jogging down the street, and hurried to catch up with him. "Luka!"

Luka paused and turned then waited patiently for her to reach him. "Marinette? You're here early."

"I didn't get the messages until after I left," she explained.

"So...you're actually late."

"But actually I'm early."

"By fluke."

"Shut up."

They clambered onboard the Liberty, but found the deck empty. Juleka's room was likewise unoccupied, so they made their way to Luka's instead. Marinette took up her usual position on his bed, pulling his blanket around her shoulders, as he prepared himself for the rehearsal by tuning the strings on his electric guitar.

Whilst he worked, Marinette typed up a message on the group chat: ( **3 is good for me! See you guys soon :)** ) then let her eyes wander around the room as she waited for either Luka to finish or someone to reply. She spotted Hamish the bear still sitting in pride of place on his desk, not on top of one a speaker and wearing a small, tartan hat with a bobble. Perhaps she ought to make that kilt… It was clear he was never going to give it to that girl.

As usual, the thought of Luka's mystery girl made her stomach flop uncomfortably. She pulled the blanket tighter.

"And that's it, all in tune," Luka said, playing a scale. The noise was muted as the guitar wasn't plugged in, but it still sounded nice to Marinette's untrained ears. "You alright? You look-" he played another slightly off-but-not-in-a-bad-way chord.

"Fine. Just thinking."

"About?"

"Nothing important." She shifted inside her blanket cocoon and forced herself to grin. "How's your personal music going? Done anymore of that song yet?"

"A bit," he said. "Rerecorded the chords but I've hit a wall since. I did start work on another one—though it'll probably work better as a Kitty Section one. Bit rockier. The only bit I'm happy with is the riff though."

"What's a riff?"

For a split-second his eyebrows darted up in surprise before he managed to catch himself and rearrange his face into a reassuring smile. "It's a guitar line that's repeated a lot in a song. At least, it's usually guitar. You'll know tons. Hang on…"

He stood up momentarily to grab a lead and plug his guitar into the amp by his desk then sat down again, cradling his instrument. "Do you recognise this?" He played a succession of deep, earthy notes that rung a bell in the back of Marinette's mind.

"I think so…"

"AC/DC, Back in Black?"

"Oh."

"How about this?" A fuller sound, slightly lighter and much happier. Reminiscent of fast cars down empty highways, windows down, sun blazing, breeze blowing… She couldn't quite place her finger on what the song was until Luka sang a single word with a surprising amount of gusto. " _Woohoo!"_

"Something something, _heavy metal,"_ Marinette sang back.

" _Woohoo!"_

" _And I'm something and needles!"_

" _Woohoo!"_

" _Well I lie, and I'm easy!"_ She grinned as more of the song came back to her—it was an English-langauge one her Nonna liked playing when they went on roadtrips. Luka joined in for the next line: " _All of the time but I'm never sure why I need you!"_

He laughed. "And the song is?"

"It's...uh…"

"Song…"

"Song...2!"

"By…?"

Nope, she didn't know. "Pass."

"Close. Blur."

"Can you teach me one?"

"Of course. Here." He unplugged the guitar and positioned it on her lap, with the dip in the body straddling her legs. "This is the one everyone learns first. First, take your first and third fingers, those ones, yeah. Or you can probably use just one, actually. You might want to double up your fingers to make sure your grip's strong enough. Now, lay your finger across the third fret That's the first one with a dot."

He shifted closer as Marinette positioned her first finger across the aforementioned fret. For some reason, her heart sped up when he leaned in and pressed her fingers harder against the strings.

"You want to make sure you're getting the strings right against the fret," he said. "That's the raised bit there, see? That's what changes the note. Now, the only strings you need to worry about are the middle two." His face nearly touched hers when he moved to pluck them. The sound was fuzzy. "You need to press a bit harder…" He plucked again; the notes were cleaner.

She repeated his action. "Okay. So, what next?"

"That's actually the second bit. The first is easier. Lift your fingers just enough that they're not touching the strings, then pluck those two again."

She did so.

"Great. So, it's open strings—that's without the fret—then third fret, fifth fret. That's the first...bit."

It took her a few goes, but she managed to play the three chords, and immediately she realised she'd heard it before. "Like that?"

"Perfect. Then open strings, third fret, sixth fret, fifth."

She didn't need him to tell her how the rest of it went. Open, third, fifth, third, open. His face split into a grin when she played the entire riff without further instruction.

"Have you ever thought about learning guitar," he asked as she played it again. "You're good."

"Only because I have a great teacher," she replied. "Can you teach me another one?"

His smile could melt steel. "Of course."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those who may be wondering, the 'off but not wrong' chords are suspended chords (my personal favourite is Dsus for no other reason than I can play it on the mandolin). The guitar riffs featured are Back in Black by AC/DC, Song 2 by Blur, and Smoke on the Water by Deep Purple. Hopefully the explanation for how to play it made sense - I did end up borrowing my other half's guitar (or, one of them) to learn the riff myself before writing it - haha.
> 
> In other news, I still suck at endings. And, as always, thanks for all the support/favourites/reviews/hits/yadda yadda. :)


	18. Day Eighteen: Vocal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vocal, in which Kitty Section rehearse.

**DAY EIGHTEEN: VOCAL**

3pm came and went without acknowledgement.

A few minutes after 3pm, Marinette and Luka were interrupted by Juleka sticking her head through the doorway, looking annoyed. Rose's grinning face joined her.

"Aw, I didn't know you were already here, Marinette!"

"Were we interrupting?" Juleka muttered.

"Oh yeah! Rehearsal's starting! Let's go!"

They disappeared. Marinette cringed when moments later she heard Rose shout, "THEY'RE HERE! THEY WERE CANOODLING IN LUKA'S ROOM!"

"Canoodling?" Luka pulled a face as he stood up, taking the guitar and hooking the strap around his neck. "Where'd she get that from? The 1950s?"

If he was embarrassed by it, he hid it well. Which was more than could be said for Marinette who tried to duck into her jacket to hide the fierce blush surging up her face. She took a moment to calm herself down and swallow the weird sad-sick feeling rising in her throat then looked up to see him offering his hand.

"Shall we?"

She took the hand without thinking and nodded. "Let's go."

* * *

The rehearsal was just like every other one she'd gone to. They set up in the little windowed room on the deck which was marginally warmer than the open air. Ivan was set up already by the drums, idly tapping out a simple beat as Anarka plucked a bluesy bass on Juleka's guitar, though she quickly gave it up when Luka and Marinette arrived.

The musicians took their places, leaving Marinette and Mylène to sit nearby and watch. Whereas Mylène bobbed in her seat and sometimes clapped along during particularly loud, rocky sections, Marinette had her sketchbook on her lap and drew ideas for logos and shapes either for use on clothes or promotional artwork. The band had been talking about getting a YouTube channel and an Instagram, so a strong image was a must.

Eventually, Mylène gave up her enthusiasm and scooted slightly closer so she could instead watch Marinette sketch. Marinette didn't mind; she was used to people peering over her shoulder whilst she worked. Neither of them noticed that the music had stopped until Rose shouted their names.

"Marinette! Mylène! Question!"

"Yeah?" Marinette called back. The band members were huddled around the drums, apparently in the middle of an impromptu discussion.

"Do you think we should change our set up a bit?" Rose asked. "Ivan thinks it all sounds the same."

Juleka mumbled something, but she was too far away for her voice to carry.

"But Juleka says this is our genre and we should stay true to it!" Rose interpreted. "What do you guys think?"

Marinette and Mylène exchanged looks. "I suppose you could shake it up a bit," Mylène said. "It is a bit...the same note. Not literally, but…"

"I think maybe a slightly more mellow song would be nice," Marinette added, nodding. "Or maybe change up the vocals? Not that yours aren't great, Rose…"

"Oh, Luka could sing one!" Rose gasped, turning to grin at him. "He already does the backing vocals!"

Surprisingly, Luka blushed, guitar hanging limply across his body as he rubbed the back of his head. "I'm not sure…"

"Yeah, why not, Luka?" Marinette asked. "You have a nice voice!"

At least, she thought he did. His backing vocals had always sounded okay.

"I still don't think-" he began, fidgeting with his guitar pick, but Rose interrupted.

"Juleka says you're always composing new songs we never hear! They'd be better coming from you than me."

Luka flushed darker. "Well, I mean, I don't want to disrupt our rock sets with some silly acoustic piece," he explained. His voice was caught between flustered and disappointed. "It'd be jarring."

"What about those rocky ones you showed me?" Marinette called. "They were good!"

"No lyrics," he responded. "And, even if they did have lyrics, I don't have the right voice for that style of music."

It hadn't even occurred to Marinette that one's voice might not match a style of music. She had gotten so used to hearing Rose's usual sweet, high tones transform into an earthy dirge that she didn't realise Luka couldn't do the same.

Maybe that's why he never wrote lyrics for his rock songs—because he couldn't sing them. And Kitty Section wouldn't match his softer, singer-songwriter pieces so he never had reason to finish them. It was like he was intent on foiling himself, setting himself up for failure.

"Simple." It was Ivan, speaking up with a rare idea. "Soft rock. Tone down the drums and electric guitar, and your voice will fit fine."

Juleka mumbled something else, but from Rose's reply of: "that's a great idea! Then it'll be ready for the next rehearsal!" Marinette figured it had been along the lines of offering to help Luka rework one of his acoustic pieces into soft rock.

"You can just do an acoustic cover of one of the older songs," Mylène suggested. "A lot of other bands do that."

"See, loads of options!" Rose beamed around the room. Even the generous one, only Rose could look so happy as she dragged someone else into her spotlight. "Besides, people love acoustic songs. That'll be great to put on our Social Media to get more followers."

Marinette had to leave the rehearsal early to help her parents with a bakery emergency, to the others' disappointment. She promised to send them pictures of her sketches, however, so the band could decide if they liked any of them. She hugged them all goodbye—Luka still had his guitar on and so could only offer an awkward one-armed embrace—then hurried away home.

* * *

The next afternoon, after school, Marinette sat at her desk with her sketchbook and a fancy set of pencils her parents had bought her for Christmas. She flicked through the pages she'd filled during yesterday's rehearsal with the intent of re-lining or adjusting the ones she was particularly happy with, and perhaps sketching a few extra ones now that she'd had time to think about it and let all of her other ideas ruminate in her head for a while.

She liked the blend of cutesy and edgy, and was trying to marry together pastel colours with deep, sharp shadows on a few clothing ideas for them. She flicked a few pages on, where she knew she'd been drawing the band's full figures with that very purpose in mind, and stopped.

There was Rose in a couple of different poses with varying styles of skirt roughly sketched; then two of Juleka, one with skinny jeans and the other with a high-low gothic-tiered skirt; only one of Ivan because she wasn't sure how to draw him without the drums in the way.

Then, on the next double-page, about ten Luka's looked back at her. Weirdly, she couldn't remember drawing them. Well, she _did._ She knew she'd been drawing him but she hadn't realised quite how many she'd done. All different poses, different expressions—why had she even been drawing expressions?

Ah, now she remembered. Because of his bright teal hair. She would need to take extra care when choosing colours so they didn't clash. That must have been her thinking—though it didn't explain the carefully detailed facial expressions.

Definitely. Couldn't have been anything else. Absolutely no other explanation.

But as she carefully selected the correct shades of blue and peach that would best replicate his hair and skin tone, why did her chest feel it was filling with rocks and helium? And why did it seem so important to get just the right blue to colour in his eyes? And, hours later when she had done designing for the day and instead practised drawing, why did she feel inclined to draw him _again_ with his acoustic guitar, mouth open to sing one of his unheard love ballads?

And why did the image of him serenading to his crush make her want to cry?


	19. Day Nineteen: Flames

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Flames, in which Ladybug is fed up.

**DAY NINETEEN: FLAMES**

"My name is Heart Burn! And I'm here to melt your cold hearts of ice!"

"Heart Burn?" Chat Noir repeated, nose wrinkling as he and Ladybug watched the akuma from the relative safety of a rooftop. "Ew, like indigestion? Do you want some Gaviscon for that?"

Ladybug rolled her eyes, yanking Chat Noir to the floor as a fireball sailed over their heads. "Cool it on the puns, Chat," she hissed. "This one looks dangerous."

"You've been saying that a lot recently."

"Well I mean it this time." A second fireball; this one struck the lip of the roof, showering them with brick debris. "Hawkmoth's giving more and more akumas deadly powers. This one's not turning people into birds or making them dance. This one throws fire. That Valentine's Day one shot real arrows. People could die."

Someone _had_ died, but Viperion had fixed that. Who knew how many other deaths he had reversed?

"What should we do? Call in back-up?"

Ladybug frowned. Calling Viperion to ask for help did make sense, but part of her was concerned that the more they brought him in, the more likely he was to see something truly traumatising. But, as harsh as it seemed to think, Paris was more important than his mental state. She opened up the comms on her yo-yo and sent him a message with the hopes that his kwami would pick it up.

"Let's hope he turns up soon," she muttered, peeking through the hole the akuma's last blast had created. "Wait, where did it-"

"Go?" Heart Burn finished for her. He was suddenly behind them on the roof, glowering with ember-bright eyes. His costume was black, but shimmered dull orange around the edges like hot coal. His cape was torn fabric which turned to flame halfway down and fluttered his heels. More fire burned on his chest in the shape of a heart. "I'm right here. Give me your Miraculous, or feel my fire!"

Ladybug leapt off of the roof just in time to avoid a wave of scarlet flame. As she flung her yo-yo out, she saw Chat Noir vaulting away. As much as she hated going away from akumas, this one needed more forethought before jumping into action. If Heart Burn's powers were mostly fire-based, then naturally water would be its weakness. The Seine was too far away, and she didn't want to have to lead this destructive akuma through the streets where it might incinerate innocent civilians.

But they weren't too far from a park with a large fountain. If they could get it there safely then maybe…

She curled in an arc to keep eyes on the akuma, and landed on another, lower roof. Heart Burn hadn't moved yet; he stood smouldering above Paris with fire burning at his hands. Receiving instructions from Hawkmoth, perhaps, or just thinking about his next move.

Chat Noir landed beside her. "Any _bright_ ideas?" he asked. "Not that I _don't_ appreciate the warmth on a cold day…"

Still at it with the puns. "There's a fountain nearby. I'm thinking if we can safely get him there, maybe we can douse him or something."

"I know the one you mean. Leave it to m-"

"Wait!" She grabbed his arm before he could leap away. "We have to think about this. People could get hurt if we just jump in. Besides, he hasn't moved. If we just run towards the park, I don't know if he'll follow us."

Chat Noir looked up at the roof where the akuma was still just standing, unmoving. "What's he planning?"

"I don't know. But knowing Hawkmoth, nothing good." Ladybug pulled up a map on her yo-yo screen, quickly identifying the park with the fountain, checking for the quickest and least populated route. "At least he's regular human-sized. If we can get him to go down that side-street, then take a right through an alleyway, that'll take us to the southern entrance to the park. Hopefully there aren't too many people out today."

"It's Saturday and it's sunny," Chat said. "It's going to be busy."

"Then hopefully we can get this done quickly once we get there."

Finally, Heart Burn moved. But not towards them. Instead, he walked to the edge of the roof, jumped, and pointed his fists down. Two bright jets of fire poured down blooming on the ground and slowing his descent.

"Sorry I'm late."

Viperion stood behind them, lyre at the ready.

"Just in time, actually. We need to get Heart Burn down there to the park," Ladybug said. "It's gonna be tricky to do it without people getting hurt."

He nodded, understanding her perfectly, and twisted his bracelet. " _Second Chance."_

Again, Ladybug no longer knew how many times they'd attempted, or how many times it had gone wrong. Viperion had the tired look of someone who had been fighting for too long, but no trauma. Nothing _too_ terrible had occurred.

"He's targeting the woman in the blue dress," he said, pointing down at a huddle of civilians behind a row of parked cars. Heart Burn had just made it to the ground and began storming towards them. "I know you want to save your Lucky Charm for the park, but I don't think we can get him there without it. And Chat, if you use Cataclysm on that lamp post in three seconds, it'll land straight on his head and he'll leave those people alone for a bit."

Oh dear, he'd done this battle so often he'd gotten the timing down to _seconds._ Chat Noir immediately leapt down to the aforementioned lamppost as Ladybug summoned her Lucky Charm.

A fire extinguisher fell into her hands. "A little on the nose."

Viperion frowned at it. "The problem is he keeps getting distracted. We get him so far then he starts trying to go back."

"But with this," Ladybug murmured, "We can keep him focused on us."

"Let's hope it works," he said grimly. Below, the lamppost fell squarely on Heart Burn's head, turning his attention briefly away from the blue-clad woman. "Time to go."

They darted down the side street, Chat Noir first, then Heart Burn, then Ladybug and Viperion. As Viperion advised, the akuma soon stopped and tried to turn back, so Ladybug gave him a blast from the extinguisher.

With an angry yell, he sent a barrage of fire balls at them, which they both managed to avoid, and ran further up the side street—thankfully empty—until Heart Burn again lost interest.

Slowly, they made their way to the park. Ladybug kept an eye out for something on the akuma that could be the power-infused object, but nothing seemed to stand out. However, she did notice Heart Burn kept one arm up, blocking his burning chest like a boxer. Was it an article of clothing? Perhaps a hood had turned into the costume?

Once they'd reached the park, it was a surprisingly easy task to knock Heart Burn into the large fountain as a crowd of families watched in horror. There was a sizzling as the flames on his costume fizzled out, and then a great deal of steam. So much steam that Ladybug would have missed the flapping purple butterfly if Viperion hadn't pointed it out.

She released it, purified, and threw the now empty fire canister into the air to summon her Miraculous Cure before the steam cleared. When it did, there was a man sitting in the water, dressed in a black trench coat and holding a lighter.

Done, and with no one hurt.

Ladybug sighed, relieved, and was about to approach the victim but Chat Noir stopped her. "His flames may be out," he said, turning away from the damp figure in the fountain, "but the fire that burns for you is one that can never be extinguished."

Ladybug stared at him. "Uh…"

"It was either that or something about my burning passion for you," he replied, grinning. He reached for her hand—she was too slow in recoiling—and brought it to his lips.

She wrenched her hand from his grip as a cold flush spread across her face and chest. "C'mon, Chat, stop messing around."

"I'm not messing around, m'lady. You know I love you. Stop being so...cold-hearted."

"Cold-hearted?" She blinked once. Twice. "Because I keep saying no?"

"Well, yeah. I mean, I'm not saying I'm going to get a black cape and start shooting fireballs but don't you think there's something to be said for rejecting me so coldly all the time?"

What.

Ladybug looked at the akuma victim, whom Viperion was helping out of the fountain, then back at Chat. "Are you being serious?"

"When it comes to you, m'lady, I'm always serious."

"You need to stop. How many times do we need to go over this, Chat? I don't like you that way. I'm sorry, but I don't."

"I know, I know," he muttered, eyebrows flattening and mouth pulling into a petulant pout. "Because you're in love with some-"

"No, Chat. Not because I'm in love with someone else. Because I don't want to date you. And...honestly, you don't want to date me either. You know you can't really be in love with me, don't you?"

"Of course I do!"

"When you don't know me? When you've only ever seen me as Ladybug, not the rest of the time? You're only seeing me at my best, when I'm trying to save Paris. But you don't know what I'm like when I'm sad, or stressed, or panicking. You don't know what I'm like at 3am when I haven't finished my homework. You don't know what I dream about, whether or not I wish on stars. You don't know my hobbies, my goals. You don't know all the little things that make me... _me._ You only know me playing a superhero."

"You're wrong," he said. "I do know you. I know you're amazing, as amazing under the mask as you are with it. I don't need to know all that other stuff to know I love you. I don't need to know it because I _feel it_ -" He pressed his hand to his chest- " _here."_

"Do you, Chat?" she asked quietly. "Do you really? Or do you just think you do?"

"Yes. And when I find out who you are, you'll still be Ladybug. So none of that stuff matters."

"It _does,_ Chat. It-" she began, but Chat Noir shook his head, one hand curled around the other to cover his beeping ring.

"I've got to go," he said. He gave her a salute, grinning. "I'll prove you wrong, Ladybug, just you wait!"

And he was gone.

Ladybug groaned. Why did he have to be so stubborn? Why did he have to be so obsessive? So irritating and demanding and childish and...

She turned back; both the akuma victim and Viperion were giving her an odd look. "Sorry about that," she said, forcing herself to smile. "Are you okay?"

The victim nodded, eyes wide, starstruck. "You and Chat Noir...having a lover's spat?" he asked. He had an odd, wispy voice that didn't suit him.

"No. Just a...a spat," she muttered. "Do you need help getting home, or-"

"No no," he said. His clothes were still wet, but he didn't seem too concerned. "I've caused enough trouble as it is. Thank you, Ladybug, Viperion."

He slouched away, leaving a trail of wet footprints. Ladybug expected Viperion to follow, but to her surprise he instead approached, still wearing that strange expression. Concern, with a hint of...recognition. No, more...familiarity?

"Everything okay with the cat?" he asked. "That, well, so- looked kind of intense. On your part, at least."

Ladybug managed to quirk a more genuine smile. She knew he'd heard every word thanks to his enhanced hearing, but of course he was too gentlemanly to admit it. "Fine. He just...doesn't know when to take a hint."

He nodded slowly, thoughtfully. "Yeah, I know the type. I mean, I've heard the type. Is there anything I can do to help?"

"You're sweet, but no. This is something I need Chat to get over on his own. If he won't listen to me saying no, I don't think he'd listen to you either."

"Of course, you're right."

"Are, um...are you okay?" she asked. "Nothing too bad happened?"

"Nah, nothing too bad this time," he replied. She believed him; his eyes didn't have that haunted quality. "Just tiring. From my perspective, I had to lead Heart Burn to this park about ten times."

"You'd better go get some rest then."

"You too," he said. "You looked a little tired today."

"I haven't been sleeping great," she admitted. "Stuff in my civilian life, you know? Anyway, thanks for today, Viperion. Maybe I'll see you next time."

"Yeah, see you, Ladybug."

By the time she reached her house and dropped onto her bed, Marinette had worked herself back up into a irate rage, fuelled by a lack of sleep and Chat Noir's antics.

"Why can't he just...stop?" she ranted to Tikki, glaring at her pillow so hard she wouldn't be surprised if it burst into flame. "Why is he still so insistent that he's in love with me when he doesn't actually know me. He knows Ladybug, sure, but all Ladybug does is fight villains and come up with plans. That's not much to go on. He doesn't know my favourite colour, or my favourite food, or...anything. I know I'm Ladybug but I'm Marinette too."

Tikki listened with the patience of a saint. "I know it's frustrating, Marinette. I'm sure he'll understand eventually. You understood eventually."

"What do you mean, I-" She froze.

Oh.

_Adrien._

Now that she thought about it, the two situations weren't too dissimilar. Chat Noir claimed to be in love with Ladybug, despite not really knowing her. She thought herself in love with Adrien, but in truth she didn't really know him that well either. Chat Noir knew Ladybug for her Paris-saving antics, like she'd known Adrien through his image in magazines and countless hobbies his father had forced him into. Chat Noir admired Ladybug almost more like an object, something to obtain, than a person. And she had admired Adrien from the pedestal on which she'd placed him, cooing over his beauty but never seeing him as an equal.

Then again… Despite her attempts to pursue Adrien, she'd never successfully done anything. She'd never told him she loved him. Sure, she'd memorised his timetable and stolen his phone and broken into his house… But she'd never actually asked him out. And if she did, she was sure she'd accept a rejection if that was his response. Chat Noir, however, had been confessing his love for two years. Obsessing for two years. Pleading for a chance for two years. And she had been rejecting him for two years.

And yet, he still tried.

Not dissimilar, but not the same either.

Marinette looked up at the pictures on her wall—of friends and memories—and relief washed over her. Relief that Adrien had never realised she'd been after him, because what if he'd felt the same way she did as Ladybug? Trapped? Helpless? Objectified? Unheard? He already felt that way thanks to his father; she would hate to have added to it with her selfish love.

"You should get some rest, Marinette," Tikki said, landing on her shoulder to nuzzle her cheek. "You must be exhausted."

Truer words were never spoken.


	20. Day Twenty: Sketchbook

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sketchbook, in which Marinette drags her friends on a wild goose hunt.

**DAY TWENTY: SKETCHBOOK**

"Guys!"

"Hmm?" Five pairs of eyes turned to look at her as she hunted desperately through her bag.

"What is it, Marinette?" Rose asked, face crinkling in worry. "Have you lost something?"

Marinette nodded miserably. "My sketchbook! It's gone!"

And that was why instead of going to the movie theatre (where they would no doubt end up arguing over which film to watch anyway) Marinette, Juleka, Rose, Alya, Alix, and Mylène ended up back at school at 5pm in the evening.

First, they went to their classroom because sometimes she left books on or under her desk by accident. Fortunately the school was still open for after-class activities, and no one had locked the rooms yet. Marinette scoured her and Alya's desk, then the desk in front, and behind whilst the others glanced around the front in case Mlle. Bustier had found it and put it there for safe-keeping.

No luck.

"You probably left it in your locker," Alix said, shrugging nonchalantly as they trooped out. "I do that with my knee-pads all the time."

But it wasn't there either. Marinette scooped out the entire contents, dumping it on the bench behind, and felt into all four corners in case anything was lurking. She found an uneaten caramel and a broken pencil, but no sketchbook.

"We went to André's after school. Maybe it's there?" Rose suggested. "He was near the Trocadero."

More accurately, Rose had dragged them to find André despite it being too cold for ice cream. Apparently, the bright sunshine had put her in a summery mood and as they were planning to hang out as a group anyway, she insisted that ice cream was a must.

So, they retraced their steps from the school to the Trocadero, Marinette trailing behind as she scoured the ground for her sketchbook in case it had fallen out of her bag at some point. Nothing. There was no such luck at the Trocadero either. Whilst Rose and Juleka searched around the benches they'd sat on, and Alix and Mylène did a quick lap, Alya and Marinette approached the ice cream cart.

Fortunately, André hadn't moved. He was surprised to see them again so soon, but nevertheless raised his ice cream scoop in greeting.

"Back for more?" he asked, hand hovering over a fresh cone. "Did you not enjoy your new combination?"

Blueberry-and-vanilla-swirl and raspberry instead of the previous peach and mint (which, now she thought about it, had been strange flavours to put together.) "No no, it was great, André," Marinette replied quickly. "We're looking for something—my sketchbook. Have you seen it?"

André put down the scoop, a little disappointed, and tapped his chin. "Hmm. No, I don't think I've seen anything like that. I'm sorry."

"That's okay." Marinette sighed. "Thanks, anyway."

They turned to walk back to the benches where Juleka and Rose sat, empty-handed.

"What's so important about this sketchbook?" Alya asked. "You have tons more, don't you? Rose buys you a new one every year."

"It has some...important drawings in it," Marinette said. "Important, uh, designs. I don't want to have to redo them—I'm worried I'll forget the details."

They joined Rose and Juleka, and soon the other two arrived back as well, shaking their heads.

"Sometimes people leave lost objects on the picnic benches near the entrance," Alix said. "But there was nothing there."

"Maybe you forgot to bring it to school?" Mylène suggested. "It could be in your room? Or the bakery?"

Marinette bit her bottom lip. She was sure she'd packed it that morning with the intention of doing some work over lunch, maybe getting some feedback from Nathaniel with the colour choices. But there was always a chance she'd forgotten… After all, Nathaniel had been forced to cancel on her last minute so she couldn't actually confirm she'd ever had it at school.

Alix and Alya nodded enthusiastically, but Marinette knew them well enough to know that they were just excited at the prospect of free baked goodies that hadn't sold that day. Nevertheless, they made their way to the Dupain-Cheng bakery and arrived just as Sabine was about to lock the door.

"Oh, I wasn't expecting you back so early," she said, opening the door to allow them in from the cold. "What happened to your film?"

"Emergency," Alix said, shrugging. "Marinette's lost something and we absolutely have to find it now, apparently."

Sabine's expression was concerned, but not overly. No doubt she was used to this sort of emergency. "Oh, well, okay. I'll let you girls look for it. Oh, Tom is about to take left-overs to the food bank, but if you want to grab anything…"

She'd barely finished talking before Alix and Alya approached the pile of goodies with glinting eyes. "We'll, uh, we'll look around here in case you dropped it on your way out," Alya said, seizing a pain au chocolat.

Marinette led the rest through the kitchen, waving to her papa as they passed him, and up into the apartment. They began in the living room, where Mylène hunted through the sofa cushions and Rose looked on the counters and shelves (but Marinette suspected she had distracted herself cooing at her parents' framed wedding pictures).

Leaving them to look, Marinette and Juleka took her bedroom. It was as messy, as she'd been in a rush that morning, with clothes and fabrics and papers littering the desk and floor. Juleka, however, was unphased. Afterall, neatness and order was all but banned on the Liberty.

"So, what is so important about the sketchbook?" Juleka murmured, only just loud enough to hear.

Marinette opened her mouth to reply then froze. What if Juleka found it first? And looked through it? And saw all those sketches of….and then… She felt herself turn red and turned away. "K-Kitty Section! That's it...Kitty Section designs. Logos and outfits and stuff. I-uh-I'm really happy with some of them and I don't want to lose them so...I meant to send you guys some pictures yesterday but I'm not sure how happy I am with some of the colours so…"

"Marinette. You're rambling again."

"Oh, sorry."

Juleka paused in her searching to give Marinette a long, suspicious look. Her one visible eye narrowed, then suddenly widened. But whatever revelation she'd had, she didn't share it. She only shrugged and continued looking.

Eventually, the others came through the trapdoor too to help. With six of them turning everything over, the room was searched quickly, but nothing found.

"Are you _sure_ it's not in your bag, Marinette?" Alix asked, sprawled on the chaise lounge. "It's not _here_."

"And it's not at the park," said Rose.

"And it's not at school," finished Alya.

Marinette rifled through her bag _again_ but it hadn't magically appeared inside. She tossed it to the floor, contents spilling out. "No."

"Then you might just have to accept that it's lost," Alya said with the no-nonsense tone she'd inherited from her mother. "I know you had some designs in there, but you can re-do them. Did you take any pictures?"

"Some," she replied, body over chair slouching in misery. "But...it's not just about the designs. It's not just _for_ designs. I had some...personal stuff in there too."

"Personal stuff?" Mylène tilted her head.

"What, like your bank account?" Alix asked, eyebrows raised.

"No. Personal...personal drawings."

Rose gasped. "You don't mean... _life drawings?"_

"What, no!" Marinette yelped, but at the same time Alix cackled.

"Of who? Adrien?" Silence, then, "Oh god, you have life drawings of Adrien?"

"No!" she cried, pulling on one of her pigtails. "I, not like _that._ Nothing like _that._ Just...personal sketched I'd rather people not see?" No one looked convinced by this, so she added, "And, you know, portfolio ideas? For lycée applications next year?"

They nodded and murmured their understanding, looking a tad disheartened. After all, lycée applications were looming for all of them.

With a new found vigour, they searched again, but the sketchbook was still nowhere to be found. Eventually, Juleka, Mylène and Alix had to go, so they walked down to the back door together.

"Sorry we didn't find it," Mylène said, giving her a quick hug. "Maybe it'll turn up tomorrow?"

"Yeah, maybe…"

"It's not _that_ late," Rose said, glancing apprehensively at the darkening sky. "We could check the school again?"

"No." Marinette shook her head. "It's not worth it. I can remember some of the designs. I'll just try and redraw them whilst they're in my head."

"Okay, good luck."

"You might even make them better," Alya said with an encouraging smile. "See you tomorrow, Marinette."

"Bye…"

She closed the door behind them and sloped back up to her room. Tikki finally emerged from her purse, big eyes full of concern, and sat on the edge of the desk as Marinette fished out a new sketchbook. "I'm sure you brought it to school," she said. "I remember seeing you put it in your bag."

"Then it could be anywhere in Paris," Marinette mumbled. "Anyone could have found it."

"Don't you think you would have noticed it fall out of your bag?"

Marinette shrugged and ignored the question. Instead, she pulled up a few photos on her phone she'd taken of early sketches, grabbed a pencil, and set to work.

Maybe it was a good thing those drawings of Luka were gone. And the other drawings of sentimental dreams: wedding dresses and engagement rings and bridesmaid outfits and all sorts.

After all, so what if some random Parisian had found it and picked it up? What would they care about the wistful doodles of a teenage girl?

* * *

When Marinette opened her locker the next morning to deposit her maths book, she nearly threw up.

There, sitting boldly on a pile of textbooks and scrap paper, was her sketchbook. But it hadn't been there yesterday, she was sure of it. She'd taken everything out and felt the corners and checked every single item inside. No sketchbook. So how…

"Oh, Marinette. You airhead." Alya laughed, having just arrived herself. "See, it was there all along!"

"But, I looked, and-"

"You obviously didn't search that hard. Why aren't you happy? This is good, right? You don't need to worry about redrawing your portfolio designs."

"Yeah," Marinette murmured, gingerly picking up the book and flicking through it. It was the same one, from the failed attempt at a butterfly-themed skirt to her page of Luka sketches. She hurriedly shut it and jammed it in her bag.

But, as she and Alya walked to class, she couldn't shake the feeling that something was terrible, awfully, suspiciously wrong.


	21. Day Twenty-One: Late Night Escape

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Late Night Escape, in which Viperion saves Marinette.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> VERY IMPORTANT, PLEASE READ.   
> Due to human error (read: my own shortcomings) the previous chapter didn't upload properly. Don't know why, but for some reason only the first scene appeared. I have now fixed so please go back and read the full thing! I feel like an absolute walnut for not noticing (and thanks to Snugglebuttkitten who pointed out how short it was! I probably wouldn't have noticed otherwise...)

**DAY TWENTY-ONE: LATE NIGHT ESCAPE**

_Tap tap._

"Good evening, purr-incess!"

Oh no.

But really, who else could it have been? There weren't many people in Paris who would be able to get up to her balcony without coming through her room. That is, people who would then proceed to knock politely on the trap door above her bed. Only Chat Noir and Viperion had that ability, and of those two only one would bother.

Shame, Marinette thought, climbing onto the balcony to see what Chat Noir wanted. She would enjoy having Viperion as a friend to her civilian self as well. He always seemed so level-headed and kind, and gave good advice. Not that she didn't like Chat, of course. But he was beginning to get on her nerves as Ladybug, and that had bled into her as Marinette.

"What's happening, Chat Noir?" she asked. "Is there an akuma? Uh, after me? Or nearby? Or…"

She hoped not, because it would make it more difficult slipping away to become Ladybug. But to her surprise, and relief, he shook his head.

"Just wanted to chat," he said. "About something I think you can understand. Do you, uh, want to go somewhere more private?"

Private? Oh dear… She remembered the time she'd claimed to be in love with him to stop him recognising her as Ladybug. He wasn't going to try something with her, was he? As a rebound or to make Ladybug jealous?

Trying to keep her face neutral, she nodded. Whatever he wanted to say, she'd rather eliminate the chance of her parents overhearing and having a repeat of the Weredad incident. "Sure."

"Hold on tight," he said, winking. He gathered her into his arms, prompting her to wrap hers around his neck for extra support. Then he launched into the night. They vaulted across Paris, the streetlamps and car lights below like stars in another sky; over the Seine sweeping like a silver snake through the city; and finally onto the roof of Notre Dame.

They sat down by the edge, legs dangling between two ancient gargoyles. Immediately, Marinette wished she'd picked up a jacket; without Chat Noir's warm arms around her, she had no defence against the winter evening chill. She bit her lip and tensed her arms to stop herself shivering as she waited with trepidation for Chat to speak.

After what could have been seconds or minutes, he did. "I need to talk to you about...love."

"Love?" Oh no, she was right, he was going t-

"I'm sorry if this is awkward. It's just, well...I thought maybe your situation is—was—similar to mine."

Situation? She took a deep breath and arranged her face into what she hoped was an expression of polite interest. "Oh?"

"You, well…" He cleared his throat awkwardly, face pinking. "You know I love Ladybug."

"Yes," she replied, nodding. "I think all of Paris knows that."

"Right." He shifted, uncomfortable. It was strange seeing him so ill at ease. "Well, I'm in love with her but she says I can't be because I don't know who she is behind the mask."

"Mmhmm."

"And you...you fell in love with me. But I'm wearing a mask and you don't know who I am. Right?"

Oh, so it was about that. "Right," she confirmed. Relief flashed in his eyes—did he think she might have worked out his identity?

His face darkened another shade. "Can I ask why?"

She blinked. "Why? Uh, well, um…" Marinette forced a cough as she desperately tried to come up with something. She could hardly _not_ have a reason, but she hadn't interacted with him _that_ much as Marinette, so… "Because you're...a superhero?" she tried. His shoulders drooped, disappointed. She scrambled to think of more. "And you're...brave? And strong. You know, you save people, and Paris. And you have superpowers and a cool outfit, um…"

He perked up. "You think my outfit's cool?"

"Yeah," she said, pumping as much enthusiasm into her voice as she could. "Of course! Black's a classic!" At least, it would be without the bell.

He grinned. "See, that makes sense to me. You think I'm brave and strong and I do good things, and I guess being a superhero helps, but those are still good reasons to like me, right?"

"...Right."

He was quiet for a short while, reflecting. Then he asked, slightly timidly, "When did you fall for me?"

"When?"

Perhaps the panic had shown on her face because Chat pulled an expression of horror and started backtracking. "I mean, if you don't mind, sorry I should have just asked like that, bit personal…"

"No, no, it's okay." Marinette sighed. She had agreed to talk to him, and it was her fault in the first place for claiming to be in love with him. (In the subsequent weeks, she had agonised wondering why she hadn't just told him she had been on the balcony after the fight because she lived there and was therefore at liberty to stand on it whenever she pleased.) "I guess maybe it started with...uh, Evillustrator? You know, when you came to protect me?"

"Oh yeah, I remember. That was one weird date," he said, smiling again and leaning back on his arms.

"And then, you showed me the candles you set up for Ladybug?" she continued. "And I guess...I just thought about it afterwards and, uh, yeah."

"And yeah," he murmured softly, thoughtfully. "That simple, huh?"

She hoped that was it. She hoped now that he'd heard what he wanted to hear, he'd take her back home and she could get in another hour of colouring before she needed to sleep. And, most of all, she hoped he wasn't going to start talking about Ladybug.

Unfortunately, her hopes were in vain.

"The thing is, Ladybug doesn't think the same as us," he said. "She thinks that just because I don't know her under the mask, I don't know her enough to love her. But I do, I know I do."

Marinette winced. How was she going to get out of this? She didn't want to tell him he was right—he wasn't. But she really wasn't in the mood to deal with his moping if she dared to disagree. As he continued talking about how amazing Ladybug was, and how he knew it was love, Marinette gazed across the Paris skyline. The night was dark, and she could only tell the shapes of roofs by the blotted out stars.

A small flash of movement caught her eye; a dark form traveling through the night, but it quickly vanished. A trick of the light.

"-and I know I'd love her under the mask if she'd only tell me who she is!" Chat Noir finished. He'd rolled forward to clutch his knees, face pulled tight.

 _Liar_ , Marinette thought. _I'm sitting beside you and you don't recognise me. I confessed my love and you didn't care._

"What do you think?" he asked, turning to her. "What should I tell her?"

Well, there was no avoiding it now. Marinette took a deep breath and sighed. "So, she's saying that you don't love her because you don't know her."

Frowning, he nodded. Marinette continued.

"But you think you do. And you're annoyed she keeps saying no."

"I'm annoyed she keeps saying I don't love her," he corrected. "Because I do."

"Maybe…" She pressed her lips together, steeling herself for a bad reaction "Maybe she has a point?"

"What."

"I mean, you _don't_ know her. Ladybug is...Ladybug. She's a superhero. She's not exactly acting freely as herself." Chat Noir's face darkened like clouds before thunder. She turned away. "At least, I assume. I don't know Ladybug that well but she's always seemed very, uh, focused. If _I_ was Ladybug, I don't think I'd be acting much like myself."

Chat was quiet for a few moments, and Marinette worried she'd said too much, given it away. Let the cat out the bag, as he would probably say.

"No offence, Marinette, but you don't know Ladybug," he said. "Not like I do. You only see her as a superhero but I see her as a person. I see her after the battles, too, and on patrol. I know she's more than just brave and smart and strong and fast. She's inspirational, sure, but I've heard her joke and laugh. I _know_ her under the mask in all but name."

Not bad. He would have had her convinced if it wasn't for the fact _she_ was Ladybug, and he was missing a few details.

"Do you know her hobbies?" she asked. "Her goals and dreams? Where she wants to live, what job she wants, if she wants kids or a cat or a hamster. What about her flaws? Maybe she's clumsy, or daydreams too much. Maybe she can't cook, or-"

"That stuff doesn't matter."

"Well, whatever if she has a habit you find super annoying? What if you have nothing in common except being superheroes?"

Chat Noir held his hand up. "That's enough. You should know, Marinette, that that stuff doesn't matter. You fell in love with me without knowing much about me."

"And that was a mistake!"

"Huh?"

"I mean-" It was her turn to backtrack. "I mean...I realised afterwards that I...don't know you that well. I mean, yeah, you're strong and brave and all that but I don't know anything personal about you. And it's the personal things you fall in love with, right? I think maybe it was more...infatuation? Like a celebrity crush?"

"A celebrity crush," he repeated, voice hollow. "I guess that makes sense with you being a civilian. But it's not the same with Ladybug. We're equal partners. I can hardly have a celebrity crush on her. That would be like you having a celebrity crush on Lu- uh, um…that guitar kid?"

"Luka?" She blanched, then suddenly felt quite hot. "Well-uh-oh-see-uhh… Luka, he's...I can't have a celebrity crush on him b-because he's...we know each other!" Marinette squeezed her eyes shut, willing her mouth to stop running of its own accord and let her brain take over again. Now was not the time to ramble; she had to keep focused. "We don't have to hide huge parts of ourselves from each other. But you and Ladybug...do."

"You're forgetting something," Chat Noir said. "Destiny."

"Destiny?"

He nodded earnestly. "Destiny," he repeated. "Ladybug and I...we're meant to be together. We were _made_ for each other. The black cat and the ladybug, together through history."

"As partners."

" _Soulmates._ "

Marinette swallowed thickly. Her heart thudded a staccato. "So, you're in love with Ladybug because you're soulmates?" she said, hoping he didn't hear the quiver in her voice.

"Not _because_ we're soulmates," he replied. "I love her because...well, I just do. But I know we're meant for each other because we're soulmates. That's why it's so frustrating. She's denying destiny because of some...crush on some other guy. But that's not going to last—it can't. Not when I love her so much."

A stab of irritation that he flippantly labelled her love for Adrien 'some crush on some other guy', but it was quickly quelled. After all, he was right: that crush had just been a crush. But that didn't mean she was going to fall for Chat Noir now that it was finished.

"Just because you love her doesn't mean she has to love you back," she said. "And I think...I think if you really did love her, you'd respect her when she says no."

"I can't do that," he said. "When she realises that we're meant to be-"

"But what if you're not."

"But we are."

"But-"

"No offence, Marinette, but this is a...Miraculous thing," he said bluntly. "You wouldn't get it."

Wouldn't get it? A Miraculous thing? Had he already forgotten that _she'd_ held another Miraculous? The mouse? He'd _seen_ her. He _knew._

Not to mention, she _was_ Ladybug. And this 'destined soulmates' thing was news to her. Not that he knew _that_ part, but it still soured her already bad mood.

She stood up sharply with the intent of leaving but quickly remembered she wouldn't be able to go anywhere without Chat Noir. "Take me home," she demanded.

He leapt to his feet and desperately reached for her hand. "Come _on,_ Marinette! I need your help."

Marinette stepped back, swinging her arm out of his reach. "No, you just want me to agree with you. Which I don't. Take me home _now,_ or…" she faltered. What _could_ she do? She could hardly shout for help from Notre Dame's roof, and she'd left her phone on her desk…

Chat Noir had obviously realised this too, and quirked an eyebrow up in amusement. "You can't avoid me that easily, princess. Come on, sit down. Maybe I haven't explained myself properly…"

"You've explained yourself plenty," she replied, folding her arms against the cold night. Why hadn't she grabbed a jacket first? "I want to go home."

"But-"

"Something wrong?"

They both gasped and turned together to find Viperion standing behind them, arms crossed, frowning. "What are you doing out?" Chat Noir asked. "Is there an akuma?"

"No, just out for a run," he said. "I believe she said she wanted to go home?"

"We were just talking about som-"

"Yes, I'd like to go home," Marinette snapped, stepping closer to Viperion. "I don't want to be a pain, but…"

"I'll take you," he said. He gave a stiff nod to Chat Noir then, without warning, scooped Marinette up against his chest and leapt off the roof.

It wasn't like traveling with Chat Noir. He had his pole to vault across Paris, affording that extra bit of stability to each jump, whereas Viperion had nothing but his enhanced strength and legs. But his arms were thicker, more muscular than Chat's, and because he didn't need one arm free to use a pole, Viperion could hold her with both.

She realised she hadn't told Viperion where she lived, but fortunately they were heading in the correct direction; she imagined he had just wanted to get her away from Chat Noir first. When they eventually stopped they were only a few streets away from the bakery.

Marinette expected him to merely ask for directions, but instead he put her down—on yet another roof. "I'm sorry about that," she said. "Thanks for, uh, getting me out of there…"

"You don't have to apologise," he said. "I saw you two earlier and, well, at first I actually thought you were Ladybug—you have a similar silhouette. I thought maybe she and the cat were having another argument and I wanted to stand by in case it got, uh, heated."

"Oh." Marinette then quickly added to keep up the clueless civilian appearance: "Uh, Chat Noir and Ladybug have arguments?"

"Probably shouldn't have said that…" Viperion, looking suitably abashed, rubbed the back of his head. "They don't hide it though, I think people just don't want to acknowledge it."

Boy, did she know how that felt.

"So, what did the cat want with you?" he asked unsurely. "Sorry if that's personal—it's just unusual."

"He wanted advice," she replied. "About Ladybug."

"Like...love advice?"

"Sort of. He thought maybe because I once told him I was in love with him that maybe I'd know how he could explain to Ladybug that he loves her."

"Wait, you…" He pulled a strange expression, one she couldn't decipher through his mask. "You're in love with Chat Noir?"

"No. Well…" Marinette mulled this over then decided that the truth—at least, most of it—would be best. "No. There was this akuma and it was by my house and I was on the balcony and Chat Noir was there and, well, there was this misunderstanding and I panicked and he got the impression I was in love with him, but my dad overheard and thought the same and then _he_ got akumatised and it was just a mess." She paused to breathe and sighed. "But no, I'm not in love with him and I never was."

He nodded slowly, face easing into a thoughtfulness. "I see. So why was he getting upset with you?"

"I didn't tell him what he wanted to hear."

"I don't suppose that pleased him."

Marinette laughed and he quirked a small smile. "Not in the slightest."

"Do you want me to actually take you home now?" he asked. "You'll have to tell me where to go…"

"Yes," she said. "But first...there was something I've been meaning to tell you."

"Yeah?" His brow scrunched, concerned. "Something wrong?"

"No no. I...I wanted to thank you."

"Uh, you're welcome," he replied. Then, after a second's thought. "For what?"

"That akuma before Valentine's Day? The cupid one? You saved me."

"I couldn't just let you get trampled…"

"No. I mean you saved my life," she said. "I got hit, didn't I? That arrow nearly got me...You'd used your power. It _did_ get me."

He stared at her sadly then sighed and released a single, breathy laugh. "Well deduced."

Although she'd already worked it out, the confirmation that she _had_ died still struck her chest like a cold fish. "So, thank you. You literally did save my life."

"Well, Ladybug would have saved you," he said quietly.

He was wrong, but she couldn't say that. "I suppose, but still." She offered him a gentle smile. "I wanted to thank you."

He nodded slowly, eyes never leaving hers as though entranced. Marinette's breath caught for a moment in her throat—is this how Lois Lane felt when she went flying with Superman for the first time? Or MJ whenever Spiderman swept her away from danger? Hopelessly starstruck? Did their hearts suddenly start palpitating in their chests? Did air turn hot in their lungs? Did the skin on their arms and neck prickle?

She shivered; the night air felt colder against the heat rushing through her blood. Viperion reached for his shoulders as thought to take off a jacket that wasn't there.

"Sorry," he said. "I've kept you out here long enough. I'll take you home." He moved to pick her up but paused. His cheeks had perhaps darkened a tone or two.

His sudden shyness was odd but endearing. Chuckling, Marinette stepped forward and, with a surge of boldness, raised her arms to his neck. He lifted her up, arranging her carefully against his chest.

"Do you know the Dupain-Cheng bakery?" she asked. "I live there. There's a balcony…"

"Of course," he said quietly. "Hold on."

It was a short journey—two short, a small part of Marinette's mind thought. Viperion dropped her off on her balcony, and stopped for only a second. He looked to have been about to say something, but then shook his head, smiled, and waved before disappearing into the night.

As much as she wanted to stay standing there for a few minutes more, letting the cold air seep into her hot skin, the fear that Chat Noir might return for a second talk scared her through the trapdoor and into her bed.

She didn't fall asleep for another three hours, but when she did, her dreams were filled with starry skies, warm arms, and bright eyes that could have been green or blue.


	22. Day Twenty-Two: Phone Call

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Phone Call, in which Marinette receives a call...on the phone...

**DAY TWENTY-TWO: PHONE CALL**

A month had passed since Valentine's Day. A month since Marinette came to the realisation that she _wasn't_ in love with Adrien.

A month...during which she hadn't told anyone of her revelation outside of Tikki and Luka.

It wasn't that she was keeping it a secret or anything. She just wanted to take a week or so to make sure she was happy with this decision, that it was right for her. And it was. She'd never felt more free, more _herself._ When she spoke to Adrien, she didn't panic or stutter or make a fool out of herself, and with that breakthrough came real conversations, conversations in which she was able to learn more about him than she had during two years of obsession and stalking. Conversations that highlighted the fact he was a living, breathing _human_ and not a statue made from sunshine to be oggled at in a gallery.

She worried as she was becoming more and more at ease that she would end up falling in love with him again, but she hadn't. She still loved him in a way, but imagining a simple date with him now just felt odd, let alone an entire future.

She knew her friends had noticed the change in behaviour, but no one said anything. Perhaps they thought this was part of another plan: the 'get more comfortable around him' plan (which, in hindsight, should have been the first option instead of the ridiculous operations they'd cooked up). Or maybe they thought she was taking a break from plans altogether.

But because no one had mentioned it, she'd never thought to bring it up.

Which was why, one Friday afternoon, Alya took her and the others hostage in the locker room after school and refused to let anyone leave until it was empty.

"What's going on with you, girl?" she asked the moment Nathaniel left with a concerned look over his shoulder. "You're acting...normal."

"That's good, isn't it?"

"We mean around Adrien," Alix clarified, leaning against a locker with her arms folded. "You haven't freaked out around him in weeks."

She knew that now was the time. She had to come clean; she had to tell them that it was over and she was over it, and-

"Maybe we need a new plan?" Rose suggested with her usual sunny smile. "The gardens near the Trocadéro are having a flower show for spring soon!"

"Yeha, there was a lot of pressure to do it around Valentine's Day," Mylène agreed. "Now that it's over maybe you'll be more confident."

"That's a great idea," said Alya. "Maybe there _was_ too much pressure around Valentine's Day, but a relaxing day out at the flower show would definitely work!"

Marinette shook her head. "No, I can't," she said. "It...it's not right."

"What do you mean it's not right?" Mylène asked.

"We'll plan everything out," Alya said. "No room for error this time. It'll run like clockwork."

"No. I can't, guys. I don't want to. The thing is-"

She was interrupted by the door bursting open. Luka stood in the doorway, guitar slung across his back, glancing down at the girl who was holding onto his arm as though she would slip away from the world if she let go. His face was twisted with discomfort, though Marinette could tell he was desperately trying to hide the fact.

The girl moved her head just enough to show her face.

"Lila?" Alya gasped. "Are you okay?"

"I...I twisted my ankle," Lila whimpered, leaning down to touch her leg with one arm, the other kept tightly curled around Luka's elbow. "Luckily for me, Luke here was passing and helped me walk…"

"Luka," he corrected quietly, eyes scanning the room. His gaze lingered on Marinette for a while, accompanied by a small, awkward smile, before moving onto Juleka. "You nearly done, Jules? I've been waiting outside for ten minutes."

Juleka glanced at the others, silently asking if they were finished.

"You'd better go then, Juleka," Marinette said. No point continuing the conversation with Lila there. Luka, she knew, would step outside to afford them privacy if it was just him, but Lila would either refuse to leave or eavesdrop outside; anything to get an upper-hand. "We'll see you on Monday."

"Bye," she mumbled, waving. She shouldered her bag and shuffled to the door where Luka was finally able to detach himself from Lila. Rose followed them out with a cheery farewell.

"I gotta go too," Alix said. "Told Kim I'd race him after his swimming lesson."

Alya's face fell as Alix and Mylène began gathering their own things. "But-"

"We can come back to it on Monday," Mylène said, catching the expression. "I think Marinette needs the weekend to think it over anyway."

"Y-Yeah!" Marinette nodded quickly. "I need some time to think it over! That's right."

Lila, disgruntled now Luka had wormed his way out of her grip, leaned against the door frame surveying the group. "Oh, Alya," she said, pitching her voice slightly higher. "Do you think you could help me walk to the library?"

"Of course, Lila," Alya replied, dashing forward. She wrapped her arm around Lila, who leaned heavily on her shoulders. "I'll see you guys on Monday then."

"See ya." Alix saluted.

Awkwardly and slowly, Alya and Lila left. Alix soon followed, skateboard tucked under her arm. Then, finally, Mylène gave Marinette an encouraging smile before departing.

Alone, Marinette sat down on one of the benches and sighed. "I should have just told them on Valentine's Day," she groaned. "Why did I leave it so long?"

"You needed time to adjust," Tikki said, peering out of her purse. "But you should probably tell them soon."

"Monday. I'll tell them on Monday."

* * *

**Luka: You got a minute?**

It was Saturday afternoon, and Marinette was putting together a small mock-up of a dress she had designed. When her phone buzzed with a new text, she put down the piece of felt she was cutting up and pulled the phone towards her.

**M: yeah why?**

**L: Need your opinion on some music  
** **L: Can we video chat? Probably easier than recording/texting**

**M: sure**

Grinning, Marinette grabbed her tablet and propped it up against a pile of textbooks on her desk. Luka never liked sharing his work before it was done, so the fact he was coming to her for help on what sounded like an unfinished piece was flattering. Moments later, his video call request appeared on the screen.

Luka was sitting at his desk; electric guitar in his lap, pen lid in his mouth as he scribbled something on a scrap of paper. He quickly extracted it once he noticed the call had started and smiled. " _I hope I'm not interrupting."_

"No, I'm just doing some sewing," Marinette said, holding up the scissors. "I can multitask though. What music do you need help with?"

" _One of these songs I'm converting to soft-rock,"_ he replied. " _Juleka's helped me a lot, but I thought maybe a few other opinions would be good. Especially from someone outside the band, and I know you like rock music too."_

"I'd love to hear what you've come up with," Marinette said.

He had only asked for a moment of her time, but he wound up playing music for her for nearly an hour, soon veering away from the initial request and just playing whatever songs came into his head—many of which, Marinette noticed, were among her favourites. Eventually, his music simmered down to idle noodling—his word, not hers—whilst they chatted about other things.

" _How's the situation with that guy going?"_ Luka asked, his fingers deftly moving up and down the fretboard, picking out a tune that sounded familiar. " _The one who wouldn't take no for an answer?"_

Marinette sighed. With her felt cut up, she had begun the process of stitching pieces together. "It's...well. It's no worse. But I don't think it's any better…"

" _No?"_

"No. I had a conversation with him the other day about it and he still didn't understand."

Sure, the conversation had been with Marinette, not Ladybug, but the sentiment still stood.

Luka frowned. The tune changed to something more sombre. " _I'm sorry. I wish I could help."_

She _could_ lean back on the idea of pretending to date someone else, and ask Luka to be that person, but that would be far too messy. For one, Chat Noir had made it clear he believed there was some thread of destiny tying them together. And if she told him it was Luka, he might start visiting _him_ at night. Not to mention, Luka, being a gentleman, would no doubt want to tell him in person to back off and he couldn't do that if it was Ladybug having the problem…

Marinette sighed. "Thanks, but there isn't really much that can be done."

" _Sure you don't want me to talk to him? Or at least, come with you to talk?" he offered. "I've been told I look quite intimidating."_

"Don't know where you got that from," Marinette laughed. "You're the least intimidating person I know. And I'm friends with Rose."

" _You've heard her sing; she has a very intimidating voice."_

Marinette snorted into her hand. Just then, her phone rang. She flipped it over—it had ended up face down on the desk—to see Alya was calling.

Uh oh. This wasn't a continuation from yesterday, was it? That, or a request for her babysitting services. Still, she should probably answer…Alya didn't like being ignored—Marinette knew from experience.

"I should probably take this," Marinette said, holding up the phone.

" _That's alright. Do you want me to go?"_

"No," she said before she could stop herself. "I, uh, that is...I won't be long…"

She had tried to keep the trepidation from her face, but to no avail as Luka's eyes clouded with concern. " _Something you want to talk about?"_

"Yeah...but let me take this first. I'll just mute myself…" She pressed the little microphone button on her tablet so Luka wouldn't be able to hear her, then answered the call. "Hi, Alya. What's up?"

" _So, you know that flower show Rose was talking about?"_

Marinette's stomach sunk like a stone in the Seine. "Yeah…"

" _I was just looking it up. Turns out there's going to be a rose garden at the show. I've seen the preliminary designs; it's so romantic. If you and Adrien…"_

Marinette forced herself not to sigh as Alya continued to sing the praises of the romantic rose garden, and how she and Adrien would definitely get together if they visited it.

Maybe now was the time. Marinette took a deep breath, preparing herself to finally admit she was over him. "Alya, the thing is-"

" _Ugh, not this again. Come on, girl. This is perfect. And you'll have us to support you! Nino can get him there, and then Mylène and Ivan will make sure the rose garden is clear. Alix will be on standby in case he tries bringing the ice queen along."_

Kagami. Despite her being Marinette's love rival—or former love rival—Alya seemed to dislike her more than Marinette ever had. And even if Marinette still did like Adrien, surely him turning up to the rose garden with Kagami was proof that she'd already lost him?

"Alya, I really don't think it's a good idea. Can't we all just go as friends?" Marinette asked.

Alya's tone soured. " _Or maybe there's someone else you'd rather go with?"_

What? Marinette rapidly shook her head before she could think of who 'someone else' could be, even though the image of bright eyes and messy hair had already formed in the back of her mind. "W-what? Alya, what are you-"

" _You've been acting different lately."_

"How?"

" _You just have. You're normal around Adrien, you never want to plan with us anymore… Why haven't you just told us?"_

"Because, uh…"

" _It's not fair, Marinette. We're your friends, I'm your best friend. How come you're suddenly keeping secrets from us?"_

"Uh..."

" _But you'll tell other people?"_

Marinette froze. "What, how did you-" she began but Alya cut across her.

" _I know you don't like Lila, but at least she doesn't keep secrets. She actually treats us like friends."_

"Lila?" she echoed. "What are you talking about?"

" _Don't pretend to be naive, Marientte. I hoped she was wrong this time. I hoped maybe she'd misheard, but looks like she was right. Ugh, I have to go. Lila's here to help babysit the twins."_

"But-"

" _You'd better have an explanation for this on Monday."_

Alya ended the call. Marinette glared at the blank screen; her furious and confused eyes glared back. What was that about? How did she know she was over Adrien? How did she know she'd told Luka and not them? And what had Lila got to do with it? What had Lila said?

She turned to Tikki, about to launch into something, then she noticed Tikki was pointing downwards at her tablet. Luka was still on screen, playing guitar, having muted himself as well.

Ah, he might think it odd if he looked up and saw her ranting at no one. Marinette forced herself to take a few deep breaths, put her phone down, and unmuted herself on her tablet.

"Hey," she said. "Sorry about that."

He stopped playing and reached forward to touch his screen. " _No worries,"_ he said. " _Everything alright? That looked like an...intense conversation."_

"Alya," Marinette muttered. "She's in a bad mood with me."

" _How come?"_

"Uh, well...I sort of haven't told her about the Adrien situation yet…"

" _No? Why? Do you think...is there still something there?"_

Marinette shook her head. "Definitely not. I am one hundred percent over him. It's just...it hasn't really come up naturally and I kept forgetting to say anything. But yesterday they were trying to plan something and I was trying to tell them there was no point, but then you showed up with—" her face darkened— "Lila and...yeah. And just now, she was still going on about this silly flower show and I was trying to tell her but she...I think she knows? At first I thought maybe she'd worked it out but then she started talking about Lila? And…"

" _Lila's the Italian girl, right?"_

"Yeah. She 'twisted her ankle'," Marinette said, making air quotes with her fingers.

" _She tripped down the steps in front of your school and fell on me,"_ Luka explained. " _It was weird. She was standing there for a few seconds watching me before she fell, like she recognised me. I felt like a squirrel being stalked by a hawk or something. Then she wouldn't let go until I walked her inside."_

Marinette frowned. She knew Lila would take an opportunity to garner sympathy from anyone, and at first she assumed that she'd just wanted attention and happened to come across Luka. But if she had been watching him for a while first...it sounded almost premeditated. "She didn't really fall. She's a liar."

Luka pulled an almost sad or embarrassed expression. " _I didn't think she'd actually twisted her ankle, but I didn't like to assume…"_ Ever the avoider of confrontation, of course Luka wouldn't have questioned her about it. No wonder he'd looked so uncomfortable.

"You wouldn't be the first to fall for her lies," Marinette muttered through gritted teeth. "At least a twisted ankle is sort of believable compared to everything else she'd said…"

" _Yeah?"_

And so, as Luka played something delicate and calming on his guitar—he had since swapped his electric for his acoustic—Marinette told him everything: Lila's first appearance at school where she nearly got Adrien taken out by his father for losing a book; the medical issues she'd made up to get the seating plan changed; the threats in the bathroom which had nearly resulted in akumatisation; and ending with the time she'd nearly got Marinette expelled by accusing her of theft and assault.

"But no one ever believes me when I point out she's lying. Instead, they all get upset with me, so I've given up. I nearly got akumatised once because of her—I don't want to risk it happening again."

When she finished, she realised that Luka had stopped playing altogether. His brow was furrowed, his mouth set in a deep frown. " _She did all that?"_ he said. " _Haven't the teachers done anything?"_

"She's as bad as Chloé; she has them all in her pocket."

" _I'm sorry. That sounds awful. Although it does explain…"_ He veered off, looking embarrassed again.

"What does it explain?"

" _You know sometimes I get...vibes from people? And I can translate that into music?"_

"Yeah? What did she sound like? Nails on a chalkboard? A dog howling?"

He laughed. " _You ever been to a pantomime? She sounded like the musical cue whenever the villain walks on stage."_ He replicated the menacing tones on his guitar, prompting Marinette to giggle.

"I'm going to hear that every time she walks into a room now."

" _So, what's she done this time? You said Alya mentioned her?"_

"Oh. I don't know. She said Lila doesn't keep secrets...and that she'd hoped Lila was wrong this time? So…" Marinette gasped. "Lila knows! Lila knows I'm over Adrien and she told Alya! So Alya was just hoping she was wrong because she was hurt I hadn't told her yet and she had to find out through someone else! Oh no, this _is_ all my fault."

" _You were still working up the courage to tell them,"_ Luka pointed out. " _It's your truth about your feelings; you don't owe anyone that knowledge. If Lila did find out—and with everything else you've said, I'd be suspicious of how—it's on her for telling people secrets that weren't hers to tell."_

"I guess... It's always Lila. She's still trying to turn them against me. Alya's been getting more annoyed with me recently. Like the other day! She got upset I was ignoring her calls—usually she'd just call be scatterbrained and forget about it but she got really annoyed! It wasn't like I was ignoring her on purpose."

" _Busy with a project?"_

"No, I was-" she stopped short. Did she really want to tell him about Chat Noir kidnapping her to grill her about romance? "Uh, out."

" _Out?"_ he repeated. " _On a date?"_

"What? No!" she yelped. A date with Chat Noir? Absolutely horrendous. No way. Nuh-uh. … A date with Viperion though… As soon as the thought crossed her mind, her face flashed a traitorous blush. She turned away to hide it, but it was too late.

" _Did you want it to be?"_ She could hear the smirk in his voice.

"No! I just...I mean…" She sighed, defeated. "I had a run in with Viperion afterwards."

" _...Do you like_ him _?"_

"What? No. I mean...not in that way. At least...not seriously...ugh. I'm allowed to have a celebrity crush! It does mean anything."

Perhaps it was the video quality on his camera, but Luka looked as though he was blushing as well. " _I never said you_ couldn't _have a celebrity crush."_

"Besides, tons of people do," she muttered. "I think more people have a crush on him than on Chat Noir…"

" _They do?"_

"Yeah," she said, then added to clarify: "He's taller."

" _Not to mention everyone thinks Chat Noir's already taken,"_ Luka mused. " _You know, with Ladybug?"_

"Tch."

" _Not a LadyNoir fan?"_ he asked.

"Ew, no. You've seen the videos. Ladybug doesn't like him that way."

" _You don't think it's a show for the cameras?"_

"No. Besides, even if they did like each other, it wouldn't be wise for them to date. It would get out eventually and Hawkmoth would use that to his advantage."

" _True,"_ he said. " _Ah, shoot. I've got to go—got a shift in half an hour. See you later, Ma-ma-Marinette."_

She flushed at the silly nickname he still insisted on using but covered her flustering with a wave. "Bye, Luka. Thanks for listening to me about everything…"

"Thank _you_ for telling me," he replied. "Can't keep it bottled up, you know?"

With final smiles, they ended the call. Marinette moved the tablet and looked at her phone. She thought momentarily about texting Alya the truth, but decided it would be better done in person. Besides, she was with Lila, and she didn't want to give her any more ammunition to use against her.

Although, Marinette thought as she retreated to her chaise lounge, it did beg the question: how did Lila find out she'd gotten over Adrien?


	23. Day Twenty-Three: Gasping for Air

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gasping for Air, in which Marinette is damp.

**DAY TWENTY-THREE: GASPING FOR AIR**

Monday was the day, Marinette decided. Monday was the day she was going to tell everyone she was no longer in love with Adrien. She would tell them the truth: she had kept it to herself whilst she sorted through her feelings, and only now was she comfortable with everyone knowing. She would deny any accusations of telling someone else, and if Alya tried to claim Lila already knew so she must have told her, then...well…

Maybe if she claimed to have confided only in a diary, she could make them think Lila was a thief…

No, that was stooping to Lila's level. Instead, she would just shrug and deny knowledge. Maybe Lila had just figured it out on her own?

When she woke up that morning with her seven o'clock alarm, the sky was thick with clouds and the air hazy with tiny droplets, which gradually grew thicker and fell faster as Marinette ate breakfast and got changed.

By the time she was ready to leave, bag on back and umbrella in hand, Paris was drenched. The rain was bad, but the wind was worse. Water was practically falling sideways, forcing itself under her umbrella and soaking Marinette's face and coat. As she reached the school building, a sudden powerful gust yanked the umbrella from her hand and carried it away.

Her hair was sodden in seconds. Marinette slumped into her classroom, leaving a wet trail behind her, and fell into her seat. Fortunately, she wasn't the only one who'd been caught in the rain, as half the class were looking slightly more damp than usual. A selection of purple towels that Mlle. Bustier kept in her desk for such occasions were making their way around the room. Eventually, Ivan tossed one to Marinette, who hurriedly started squeezing the worst of the rain out of her hair and clothes.

During literature, whilst they were supposed to be making notes about the life of Albert Camus, Marinette surreptitiously sent a text out to a group chat under her desk.

**Marinette: need to talk to you guys about something  
** **Marinette: meet at lunch in cafeteria?**

**Alix: sure**

**Rose: of course! :)**

**Juleka: (thumbs up emoji)**

**Mylène: u alrite marinette?**

Alya didn't text her response but she managed to catch Marinette's eye and nod.

When the lunch bell rang, Marinette was a little slower in leaving the classroom as her homework had gotten soaked and she needed to spend an extra minute prying the pages apart and checking it was still legible before handing the pile of wet papers to Mlle. Busier who, to her credit, accepted it without commenting on its state.

She popped into the locker room to drop off her literature textbook and grab her lunch, and happened to glance out of the window on her way to the cafeteria.

It was still raining heavily—worse, if possible—but for some reason, there were a few people standing on the street, staring blankly at the sky. She stopped by the window to look up as well, but there was nothing there. Just iron-grey clouds. She had thought she'd heard thunder earlier; maybe they had seen a lightning strike?

"Aren't they getting wet?" Tikki asked, sticking her head out to watch as well.

"Yeah. What are they looking at?"

She waited for a few more seconds, expecting a burst of thunder and lightning, but there was nothing. Marinette had been about to shrug and move on when some movement caught her eye. Someone was running between the frozen figures, glancing over their shoulder in horror…

Then a golden beam of light hit them, and they stopped. Marinette watched in horror as the person's expression grew blank before they slowly tilted their head to the sky.

Akuma.

Now?

"You'd better transform, Marinette!" Tikki gasped. "Hurry!"

"Let's make this quick," Marinette said. She glanced up and down the corridor—still empty—and so transformed into Ladybug then and there. She sprinted back down the hallway towards the front doors, warning everyone she saw to _stay_ indoors.

"And Nino," she yelled as she passed him and Adrien, "Make sure Alya doesn't go out to film this one!"

"I'll do my best, Ladydudette!" he responded, giving two thumbs up.

She nodded and continued out of the school and around the building. She soon found the first victims, growing pale and damp as the rain splattered on their expressionless faces. They were blinking; their eyes seemed to be somewhere else, looking at a different sky. Ladybug waved her hand in front of one of them but received no response.

"What's going on here, m'lady?" Chat Noir was perched on the roof, spinning his stick above his head to keep off the rain.

"I don't know… Come on, let's find whoever's behind this."

Most akumas were fairly destructive, leaving a trail of overturned cars, broken buildings and cracked streets in their wake. Or they would gather an army of civilians, transfigured or brainwashed; or they would shout their pains loudly enough for the entire city to hear. But this akuma did none of these things. It seemed like a ghost, drifting around leaving nothing to prove it existed bar people staring blindly at the clouds.

Nevertheless, Ladybug and Chat Noir followed what they thought was the trail, pointing out whenever they found someone else standing still in the rain. The trail led them away from the school, through the park, and finally to a highstreet where they caught their first glimpse of the akuma.

A figure dressed in dusky pink and gold floated above the pavement, feet inches from the cement. Their hair was long, rippling elegantly in the wind, tied with ribbons and beads. In one hand, they held something that resembled a small tennis racket, but it was brightly coloured and glimmered.

The akuma hadn't seen them yet, so Chat Noir and Ladybug followed quietly behind it with hopes of keeping surprise on their side. They learned that the akuma used the strange object to shoot beams of light at whoever it came across, freezing them to the spot.

As they got closer, Ladybug recognised the object as a dreamcatcher, decorated with glinting pink and gold beads. Why a dreamcatcher? And what exactly was it doing to those people?

"I know you're there," came an eerie voice. Suddenly, the akuma turned to meet them: a woman with bright white hair and skin. Her dress was delicate pink, billowing over her body like a cloud drenched by a sunrise, and flecked with gold that shone like stars. Lines crawled up her arms and legs; at first Ladybug thought they were tattoos drawn in golden ink, but then she realised they were her veins.

"I am Dream Scape," said the akuma. Her voice was gentle and soothing, so quiet it ought to have gotten lost in the wind but somehow made it unscathed to her ears. "Welcome to your dreams!"

She raised the dreamcatcher; golden light gathered in its spiderweb of pink thread. Ladybug and Chat Noir leapt to the side, narrowly avoiding its beam.

Ladybug slipped behind a car for temporary cover as she thought up a plan, but she came up blank. They needed another perspective, someone observant. She took out her yo-yo to contact Viperion when the car suddenly exploded, sending her flying into the building behind. Her suit took most of the blow, but her skull still felt like it had cracked open upon impact with the brick wall. She gingerly touched the back of her head as she legged it further down the street; no blood.

Dream Scape made no noise, so Ladybug couldn't hear it pursuing her, but she knew it was there. She swerved down a narrow side street, glancing over her shoulder. The akuma was still following, but Chat Noir was hot on its heels with his staff ready to deliver a blow. A blast of golden light whizzed past Ladybug's right ear, blinding against the gloomy day.

Chat Noir suddenly appeared at her shoulder, having vaulted over Dream Scape. "Any plans, m'lady?"

"The akuma must be in the dreamcatcher," she said. They reached the end of the side street and spilled out onto a wider road. "We have to knock it out of her hand."

"Then we have to stand and face her," said Chat. He stopped abruptly, turning on his heel with his baton at the read. Ladybug skidded to a halt a few feet behind him and watched with horror as he took a wild swing at Dream Scape, only to miss. She then raised her dreamcatcher, the golden light gathered…

Chat Noir tried to leap out of the way again, but she had been anticipating this. The beam struck him in mid air. Chat Noir landed heavily on the street, and didn't even bother standing up. He just tilted his head back and stared.

Ladybug ran to him, ducking to avoid another blast. She grabbed his shoulder and shook, but he didn't react. "Chat!" she cried. "Chat! You have to snap out of it! Come on!"

"He won't wake," said Dream Scape. "He won't want to. He's in his dream now. And you can join him…"

Ladybug backed away. She saw movement over Dream Scape's shoulder. A civilian? She opened her mouth to shout, "Run!" but the words never left her mouth.

Gold filled her vision; she had the feeling as though she was falling or maybe she was flying, and the golden light became a star in an endless sky…

Then, there was nothing.

* * *

The moon was full above Paris, hanging like a pearl in a sea of stars, shrouded in black velvet. The air was cool as it rushed past her face and through her hair, but she was kept warm by the strong arms curled around her body as they flew through the night. Below, the Seine glittered as though it had swallowed an evening of stars and left them to shine in its depths like a lost treasure of diamonds.

They landed on the bank. Viperion placed her gently on the ground, smiling softly as he touched her cheek, his dark hair ruffled by the breeze. Then he let go, and nudged her shoulder before melting away into the shadows. Marinette turned.

Luka stood by the water's edge, eyes brighter than the moon, dressed in a shirt the colour of night with cherry blossoms spilling over his chest. _Her_ cherry blossoms, the same as the ones growing across her own star-silver dress. He held out his hand, large and strong, but soft when she took it and allowed herself to be drawn into his arms.

They swayed and span on the grass, kept in time by wind whistling through the trees and the sighs of crickets in the bushes. His hands were around her waist, holding her close, and she rested her arms on his shoulders and let her head lay against his chest, tucked beneath his chin, to feel the drumbeat of his heart, keeping her steady, keeping her anchored.

He leaned down until his lips all but brushed against the shell of her ear and she could nearly _hear_ his smile, soothing and gentle, and _feel_ the warmth of a rose-pink blush on his face, and _taste_ the words he whispered to her now, more beautiful than a song.

"I love you, Marinette."

"I love you too," she sighed, pulling back just enough to see the joyful glow on his cheeks, and his smile break into a grin, and his eyes flicker down. Something clicked in her brain, as though she had finally remembered something she had been trying to recall for months. He slowly leaned closer, and she mirrored his actions, and breathed the words again. "I love you, Luka…"

Luka...Luka who was kind and supportive and could make her laugh with just a look. Luka who encouraged her goals, helped her to grow, and brushed away the tears when she failed. Luka, who could express himself so plainly through just a few strings on the guitar, who wrote love songs that could break hearts, who was in love…

...with someone else.

His lips brushed against hers and she pulled away so violently she tripped and fell onto the grass. Luke offered her his hand to pull her back up, brow furrowed in concern.

Marinette stood on her own, backing away, brushing grass and dew from her skirt. "You're not real," she whispered. "You're not the real Luka."

"I am Luka, Marinette," he said, stepping closer. "What's wrong?"

She shook her head. "You're not. The real Luka loves someone else."

"No, I love _you_ , Marinette." He smiled so softly, so sincerely that it made her heart ache. "It's always been you. All of those songs, all for you."

Marinette shook her head again, more rapidly, covering her face with her hand. She was surprised when her fingers came away wet. She tried to remember where she had been before, how she had gotten here, but she couldn't. All she knew was this impossibly beautiful night, and her moon-bright dress and his gentle smile and warm hands. But it wasn't real, it was fake. A lie. A trick. A false dream…

A dream…

"This isn't real," she said again with more conviction. "This is Dream Scape's doing. This is Hawkmoth. Then if I'm not here...I'm still on the street with Chat Noir, and…" She gasped. Her body was defenceless, her Miraculous easy pickings. She had to return, had to break out of this dream.

"This isn't real," she muttered, stamping her feet, willing them to feel concrete instead of grass. She shut her eyes against Luka's sad face. He wasn't real, as much as she wanted him to be. She felt his hand on her arm, heard his voice begging her to believe him when he said he loved her and only her and there was no one else, there would never _be_ anyone else, but it wasn't real and she had to get away so she stamped her feet harder and harder and tried to feel the rain on her face and the cold air on her skin and beyond her eyelids everything was blue and silver and black and gold and Luka was crying out and thunder was booming and the rain was pounding and…

Ladybug gasped for breath and staggered back into reality.


	24. Day Twenty-Four: Rain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rain, in which Marinette is still damp.

**DAY TWENTY-FOUR: RAIN**

Ladybug gasped for air and staggered back into reality.

The rain was cold and heavy on her face and neck; her dripping hair slithered down her shoulders like twin snakes. She fell heavily onto her knees, a deep puddle splashing around her legs on impact. The sky was gunmetal grey, looming like night's shadow above the roofs as it emptied an ocean onto the streets. White light flashed, and moments later thunder blasted.

Ladybug touched her face. She didn't know if the wet streaks were tears or raindrops; didn't know if the void in her chest was heartache or failure; didn't know if her stomach was flipping from despair or the cold. She stood and wiped her eyes. There was Chat, sitting nearby, still staring at the sky, still trapped in his dream. But where was the akuma?

A sound, like a cry of pain. Ladybug blinked hard to focus her mind then ran in the direction of the shout: up the street; past more dreamers; through torrents of rain. Two figures fought in the storm, one pink, the other teal. Dream Scape fired pink beams from her dreamcatcher, blasting apart walls and cars whilst Viperion swerved and dodged the falling debris. Why wasn't she trying to make him sleep? Why was he…

"How much time do you have now, little snake?" Dream Scape taunted in her strange, ethereal voice. "One minute? Two? Don't worry, I'll send you into a dream, a lovely dream you'll never want to wake up from…"

A piece of guttering struck Viperion on the shoulder and he crumpled to his knees. But he still met Dream Scape's gaze with a steadfast fury as she raised her dreamcatcher again. A jet of pink sent down a shower of bricks which completely buried one of his arms. Gold gathered in the dreamcatcher—Viperion's gaze shifted and he met Ladybug's eyes for a split second before the light beam hit him squarely in the chest and his face became blank.

"I'll take your Miraculous too," said Dream Scape, drifting towards his motionless form. "Then I'll take the others without you getting in the way."

Oh no. Now or never. Desperately, Ladybug whispered " _Lucky Charm_ ," and was rewarded with a pair of scissors. She nodded; there was no time for a creative solution. She flung out her yo-yo which tangled around the distracted Dream Scape's legs and brought her to the ground. Then, Ladybug sprinted across, placed one foot on her back to stop her standing, and smartly snipped the strings in the centre of the dreamcatcher. The black and purple akuma fluttered out, which Ladybug quickly caught and purified.

Relief momentarily filled the strange emptiness in her chest and quelled the nausea in her stomach. She threw the scissors into the air to call upon the Miraculous Cure and sighed as Ladybugs swarmed through the city, awaking Dream Scape's victims and fixing the few spots of damage she'd caused.

Dream Scape dissolved into a young woman wearing a pink dress and holding a large decorative wooden spoon. When Ladybug untied the yo-yo string from around her feet, the woman sat up but didn't stand. She gazed sadly at the spoon then finally looked up at Ladybug.

"It happened, didn't it?" she murmured. "He got to me."

Ladybug nodded. "I'm sorry. Do you want me to take you somewhere? Home, or…"

"There's nothing left for me there," the woman said, biting back a sob. "He broke my heart and ruined my dreams. Then I heard his voice...he said he could help me make everyone's dreams come true and...and I just didn't want anyone else to feel like I did. Like I _do!"_

"Madame," Ladybug began but the woman shook her head.

"Thank you for saving me," she said. "My sister lives near here. I think I'll go and stay with her." Her eyes shifted a little as she looked across Ladybug's face and she frowned. "I'm sorry. Whatever I did to you...I'm sorry."

She hurried away down the street before Ladybug could speak again. She turned her attention to Viperion, who was still sitting on the pavement, rubbing his arm. "Are you okay?"

"I think so," he muttered, rolling his shoulder back. "I know you fixed it but it still hurts. Phantom pain or something."

"Yeah, that happens," she said. "You saw yourself get injured so your brain doesn't believe it's been healed. I'm sorry I couldn't help you before she blasted you."

"That's fine," he said, easing himself to his feet. "It wasn't a new dream. Nice to revisit it, but always sad to wake up again."

All at once, the emptiness opened up again inside her. Her stomach writhed uncomfortably, and her eyes stung. She wiped her face again and tried to stop her breath shuddering in her throat. "Thanks for holding her off."

"Thanks for waking up," he countered. "How did you pull yourself out of it?"

"I realised—" she paused as Chat Noir ran towards them, looking confused— "it wasn't real."

"What happened?" Chat Noir asked. "Did we win?"

"We won. You got trapped in a dream for most of it."

"I've had worse," he said, grinning. "It was such a good dream, too…" He sighed happily as Ladybug and Viperion shared a look. "You, me, a candlelit picnic on the Eiffel Tower…You were laughing at my jokes, and…"

He continued in a similar vein as a hole opened up in Ladybug's stomach. Of course his dream had been about her...and of course he hadn't even tried to get out of it. He hadn't realised it wasn't reality, which was odd.

"Did I take off my mask in your dream?" she asked. "Or, did you ask me who I am?"

Chat Noir stopped short and looked slightly abashed. "Uh, no... But like I've said before, that doesn't matter. It's _you_ I'm in love with."

Of course. Of _course_ he hadn't bothered asking in his dream, because deep down he didn't really care about her as a real person. He saw the mask, and everything else fell away. He saw her as a hero with her costume and her powers and her kwami-given confidence and strength and fell in love with the paragon created.

If he actually loved her, fully and completely, surely in his dream he would have asked. He would have tried to find out. Maybe he would have found someone else beneath the mask, maybe his brain would have filled in the gap in his knowledge and put someone he knew as a civilian in her place. Maybe he'd realise that he loved someone else, someone he _could_ love, and finally leave her be…

But no.

Ladybug heaved a sigh and shook her head. "It's still no, Chat. And you know why."

He pouted. Rain roared around them, splattering on their bodies, on the street. The clouds were so thick, the city so dark, that the streetlamps were flickering, casting amber on the paving stones.

Viperion looked at his bracelet. "I have to go. I have seconds before I transform back…"

"You'd better run," Ladybug said. "I should too. I'm gonna be late for class."

Viperion disappeared down an alleyway, followed by a flash of turquoise. Chat frowned, glancing at the entrance, but said nothing. He gave Ladybug an odd look then turned and fled. She waited until he had disappeared before backing into a narrow side street and dropping her transformation in the shelter behind a bin.

The rain felt harder, thicker, _wetter_ without her suit. Not to mention she had transformed without her coat, so she was left in just her jeans and jacket which were soon soaked through. Her hair was plastered to her forehead and cheeks, and her pigtails dripped raindrops down the back of her shirt. She stumbled back onto the main street.

The emptiness inside was smothering, like a hole in her heart dripping blood into her lungs until she couldn't breathe, and her stomach clenched so painfully she thought she was going to throw up. Now that the battle was won, and Tikki's calming presence had left her mind, everything came rushing back like an icy flood.

She fell against a cold brick wall, breath hot in her throat as she gasped for air. Her eyes were too big and too small for her head, the world blurred around her, her cheeks ran with rain and tears. Her throat was raw from the sobs that racked violently through her body… She didn't notice sliding down the wall to sit on the damp pavement; she didn't feel Tikki crawl out of her purse, cookie crumbs around her mouth, to sit in the crook of her neck; she didn't didn't hear the thunder shouting through the sky.

But she did hear the footsteps approaching, dampened by the rain; and she felt Tikki's warmth suddenly disappear from her neck; and she noticed the rain suddenly stopped falling on her head. She looked up; a beaten black umbrella hovered above her. The hand holding it was white and pink with the cold, sickly against chipped black nail varnish. The arm was covered by a blue sleeve, usually rolled up past the elbows.

The face was familiar, crumpled with worry.

The voice was like a sad song, comforting and heartbreaking all at once.

"Marinette? What are you doing? Are you okay?"

She forced herself to look at him, really look at him. No night-coloured shirt with cherry blossom, no adoring smile, no entranced blush. No confessions of love. Just concern for a friend sitting in the rain. He crouched down on the pavement next to her and hesitantly touched her arm.

"Marinette?" He tried again.

She burst into tears. Immediately, he leaned forward and wrapped his arm around her, pulling her into his chest and rubbing small, soothing circles on her back with his fingers. Marinette burrowed into his jacket, rain and tears on her face growing warm from his heat. She sobbed like a child, and he hummed a soothing tune in her ear until she was able to swallow her cries and breathe properly.

She pulled away to rub her face, but his arm remained solidly around her. He was still holding the umbrella above them to keep away the rain. "S-sorry…"

"What happened?" Luka asked.

What was she meant to say? That she'd just realised that she was absolutely hopelessly completely and utterly in love with him? But he was in love with someone else? That she'd found what felt like a missing piece of her heart, only for it break? She shook her head, waiting for him to push her for more.

He didn't. Instead, he pulled her to her feet—she swallowed down the disappointment when he let her go from his arms. "Come on," he said. "I'll walk you back to school."

"But—" she sniffed— "won't you be late?"

"Already am," he replied. "Besides, you're more important than some music theory lesson…"

They set a slow pace down the glistening street. He held the umbrella in the hand closest to her to keep them both out of the rain, and was careful not to walk too fast despite his longer legs. They were only a street away from Collège Françoise Dupont when Marinette tripped over her own feet and grabbed Luka's arm to keep herself from falling. At the same time, lightning flashed through the clouds, and as she looked up to meet his startled gaze, its thunder clapped.

They stared at each other. Marinette's head felt stuffy and hot, and her nose tingled, and she thought she might start crying again…

To both of their surprise, a sneeze burst out of her, then another, and another. At the same time, her head started pounding and a light sheen of sweat broke out across her forehead. She opened her mouth to apologise for sneezing all over him but stopped when he laughed.

"On second thought," he said, gently tugging her in a different direction, "I'm taking you home."

"B-but-"

"You're sick."

"It-it's just-t a cold…"

She sneezed again and he quirked up an eyebrow. "You're in no state to go back to school. You're going home, and I'm texting Jules to let her know. Okay?"

Juleka… With a stab of horror, Marinette remembered the meeting she was meant to have with Alya and the others. They were going to think she'd bailed! And if Lila noticed and got there first…

"They'll only send you home straight away," Luka said reassuringly. "Besides, you're soaked. You don't want to sit through class like that."

"My coat's at school," she mumbled. "And my stuff, and-"

"Hey, it's okay," he murmured. "I'll ask Jules to drop it around after school. I'd go myself but I don't think they'd let me…"

Marinette hadn't even realised they were still walking until he paused by a door and pushed it open. Warm air washed over Marinette, and somewhere a small bell tinkled.

"Good afterno- Marinette?"

Her mother's voice. Why did it sound so far away and hazy? But there she was, hurrying through the bakery to pull her away from Luka and into the warmth.

"Why aren't you at school? And where's your coat?"

"There was an akuma at lunch time," Luka said. "I think it got her. She's too sick to go back to school, so…"

As if to prove his point, Marinette sneezed again. Sabine tutted.

"Not in the bakery, dear," she said. "Come, we'll get you out of those clothes and up to bed. Thank you…"

"Luka. Luka Couffaine. I'm a friend of Marinette's."

"Thank you, Luka dear."

Sabine pulled Marinette deeper into the bakery, trailing water across the floor, to the backdoor which led to their flat. Before the door closed, Marinette looked over her shoulder, but Luka was gone, nothing more than a dark figure disappearing into the rain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, I got bored and doodled Ladybug's dream from the previous chapter: https://www.deviantart.com/frivolousflare/art/The-Dream-871397127  
> Would have imbedded it in the text but I don't trust the formatting to not go haywire, and also a picture might disrupt the flow so...eh. The outfits are the ones described in my other fanfiction Cherry Blossoms of Midnight for the Christmas dance.


	25. Day Twenty-Five: Alone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alone, in which Marinette is ill.

**DAY TWENTY-FIVE: ALONE**

Marinette slept through most of the next day, waking only to eat thin soup and hot rolls before falling back into slumber. She was haunted by dreams of Parisian nights and cherry blossoms, of umbrellas and rain and dancing to a sad guitar.

She woke up late on Wednesday morning with a blocked nose, a sore throat, and a stuffy head. Her mother let her out of her cocoon of blankets to run through a hot shower, then sent her straight back to bed with a stack of fresh toast.

"You're still sick," she said, peering at a thermometer. "And no wonder. What happened to your umbrella? And why were you outside without a coat?"

"Akuma," Marinette mumbled.

"That doesn't explain why you were outside in the first place," Sabine replied. "From what I could make out, it was only outside."

Marinette shrugged as she burrowed deeper into her pillows. Her mother had changed her bedding whilst she was in the shower, and now the covers smelt like lemon and vanilla. "Can't remember…"

"Hmm." Sabine pursed her lips, unconvinced, but didn't press it any further. "I have to go back to the bakery. You know the shop number if you need anything."

Marinette nodded. "Thanks, maman."

"Rest and get better. I've left some painkillers for you if your head starts hurting again."

After delivering a swift, warm kiss on Marinette's forehead, Sabine left. Marinette munched her way through her toast, not realising how ravenous she had been until her teeth sunk into the first bite of crisp bread and melted butter. Then, wiping crumbs from her mouth, she placed the empty plate on the floor and grabbed her laptop. Her mother had been kind enough to leave her phone, laptop, tablet and a few books next to the bed.

Several missed calls and texts greeted her. The missed calls were all from Alya, and time stamped Monday lunchtime; no doubt she had been wondering why Marinette had bailed on the meeting she had tried to set up in the first place. A good chunk of texts were from the group chat she had with the girls, but there were also several from other classmates and friends. And—her throat tightened—one from Luka.

It was as though her mind had been stuffed with rain clouds, and now they suddenly cleared to cast exposing sunlight on everything she had tried to keep buried. Luka—wonderful, amazing Luka—with whom she was in love. Luka, who loved someone else.

It hurt more than when she had seen Adrien with Kagami. She knew now that her love for Adrien had never been real—obsession and infatuation, sure, but not love. Whereas with Luka...she knew it was real this time. It had snuck up on, and she'd fallen so slowly she hadn't even noticed until her heart had shattered on the ground.

Marinette shut off her phone and buried it under her pillow then angrily wiped away the tears. Too late for that ship. Now that she knew it was him she wanted, him she loved, he was already too far away to reach. And he'd now spent so much time and effort helping her chase Adrien that there was no way he would never—could ever—see her as something more.

Was this her fate then? To spend her life chasing the unobtainable? The Adriens and the Lukas of the world? Always in love, never loved?

"Marinette?" Tikki called softly from the edge of her blanket, large eyes filled with worry. "Are you okay?"

Marinette sniffed loudly and managed a nod. "Yeah, I'm fine."

"What happened?" she asked. "After we defeated the last akuma…"

So Tikki hadn't seen the dream, hadn't felt the elation and heartbreak. Perhaps she'd been in her own dream, and Marinette wondered briefly what gods dreamed about. She grabbed a tissue—her mother had left a pack of those too—and blew her nose a few times, as if by clearing some of her tubes she might be able to clear her mind too.

"In the dream," she said quietly. "I saw Luka. He told me that he loved me and I realised…"

"You love him too," Tikki finished with a grim smile.

"You don't sound surprised."

Tikki gave a small, guilty shrug. "I've known for a while," she admitted. "I've noticed the way you look at him, and how you smile whenever he texts you. But why are you crying?"

"Because it wasn't real," Marinette said. "It was fake. He doesn't actually love me. He loves...that other girl. The one all of those songs are for."

"How do you know they're not for you?"

She shook her head. "He would have said so."

"Would he?" Tikki pressed. "When he knew you were pursuing Adrien?"

Marinette frowned. That _could_ be a possibility, she dared to let herself think. After all, she put aside her feelings for Adrien when he'd pursued Kagami. But no, because.. ."He said if he ever wrote me a song he'd call it…" She trailed off, flushing.

"He'd call it?"

Marinette forced down the blush and waved her hand dismissively. "...It doesn't matter. He said _if_ he ever wrote me a song, so he hasn't, so they're not for me. Besides, don't you think he would have said something? Refused to help me?"

Because surely it would have shown on his face? She'd had a hard time keeping it from her face when on that double date. It was only Adrien's obliviousness that had stopped him from noticing—Kagami had seen straight away.

"What about after Silencer?" Tikki said. "He basically said he loved you."

_You're the most extraordinary girl, Marinette. Clear as a musical note and as sincere as a melody. You're the music that's been playing inside of my head since the day we first met._

The blush came back, more ferocious. She swallowed thickly and looked away. Sure, it had _seemed_ like a love confession at the _time_...but he had been an akuma for the first instance and wasn't in his right mind. Then the second time he'd been under the impression he'd done something terrible, and was probably trying to make up for it. "He...he was just being kind."

"It didn't sounds like that-"

Marinette cut her off. "Tikki, no. This...this is just wishful thinking. Do you remember that time Adrien wrote a poem in class? And I...dug it out of the bin? I so wanted it to be about me that I managed to convince myself it was. This...this is the same thing. I could think about all of this stuff and wish so hard that I could convince myself you're right, that he does love me. But that doesn't make it true. It just means it'll hurt even more later."

"But-"

"No. I should accept it. I'm going to die alone." She gave a dramatic groan and flopped over to bury her face in her pillows. She stayed like that for a while, sniffling and sighing, shifting every now and then when her eyes itched. When she eventually looked back up, Tikki was sitting on the pillow next to her, tiny arms folded, mouth pulled in a frown.

"Marinette, you're being ridiculous," she said, uncharacteristically harshly. "Of course you're not going to die alone. First, you still have your family—"

"—they don't count—"

"—and your friends."

Marinette's pout weakened. "I guess…"

"And it looks like your friends have been worried about you," Tikki continued, looking down at where the phone was hidden beneath the pillow. "And Luka, too. I know it hurts now, Marinette, but it'll get better. For now you should appreciate his friendship."

"He is a good friend," Marinette murmured. She sighed in defeat. "You're right. I'm being ridiculous. I'm not alone. I just...hurt. But that'll get better."

"That's the spirit, Marinette!" Tikki cheered.

The pain was still there, like a dull ache in the bottom of her heart, but there was a comforting warmth there now too. She smiled at the kwami and stroked her head affectionately before digging out her phone.

First, she tackled the group chat.

**(Monday)**

**Alya: were in the cafe where r u?**

**Alix: yo marinette we;re waiting**

**Alya: Srsly girl!  
** **Alya: nino says theres an akuma! if ur not here soon im cancelling and going to get footage  
** **Alya: juleka says ur sick and luka took u home u ok?**

**Rose: omg marinette r u ok?  
** **Rose: hope ur better soon! 3**

**Alix: if this is some complicated way of getting out of talking to us…  
** **Alix: wait this was your idea  
** **Alix: you really are sick**

**Rose: of course shes sick! :(**

**Mylene: Marinette doesnt pretend to be sick  
** **Mylene: I dont remember her ever pretending  
** **Mylene: do you want me to bring your stuff to yours?**

**Juleka: told luka id bring it  
** **Juleka: just told bustier too**

**Alya: lila says she hopes u feel better soon**

**Alix: lol  
** **Alix: rly?**

**Alya: wat?**

**Alix: lol  
** **Alix: lila hates marinette as much as marinette hates lila**

**Mylene: i don't think they hate each other…**

**Alix: i do**

**Rose: :(**

**Alix: anyone hear what bustier just said? Wasn't listening**

**Mylene: algebra  
** **Mylene: pg 21**

**Alix: thx**

**Alya: srsly lila doesnt hate anyone**

**Juleka: gave your stuff to your mum  
Juleka: hope your beter soon**

**(Tuesday)**

**Rose: anyone seen mari 2day**

**Alix: nah  
** **Alix: sick probs  
** **Alix: or late  
** **Alix: again  
** **Alix: lol**

**Juleka: prob still sick  
Juleka: her ma said she was rly out of it  
Juleka: so did luka**

**Alix: luka?**

**Alya: he took he rhome**

**Alix: nice  
Alix: lucky marinette**

**Juleka: wat?**

**Alix: hes kinda hot**

**Juleka: ew  
** **Juleka: if ur reading marinette im bringing ur hw for today to**

**(Wednesday)**

**Rose: still sick :(**

**Juleka: she slept all yesterday  
Juleka: rly sick**

**Alix: ew  
** **Alix: i mean poor marinette**

**Mylene: you don't mean that**

**Alix: D:**

**Mylene: i can see you laughing**

**Alix: D:  
Alix: stalker**

Marinette stifled a giggle as she typed up a response.

**Marinette: hi guys, sorry for ignoring all your messages! I slept through all of yesterday! Im still sick today but might be better tomorrow?  
** **Marinette: thanks for bringing my homework juleka!**

**Alix: ooh  
** **Alix: the sarcasm  
** **Alix: thx for all this extra work! /s**

**Juleka: np**

Marinette closed the chat before they could bombard her with more messages—considering they were in the middle of a lesson, they really shouldn't be on their phones at all. There were a couple more texts from other classmates and friends wishing her a speedy recovery, including Adrien, Marc, and Kagami. She responded with short messages thanking them for the sentiments. Then, finally, she opened the one from Luka. It was longer than his usual messages, and she imagined he must have spent a long time scrutinising it before sending.

**Luka: Hi Marinette, I just wanted to let you know that you can talk to me about anything. I would never force you to tell me anything, but I've been so worried about you since I found you yesterday. Whatever it is that's wrong, I'm here for you and you have a lot of friends who are too. But I won't force you so if you don't want to tell me then you don't have to. I won't bring it up again. We really care about you Marinette. I hope you feel better soon.**

Marinette swallowed thickly and quickly brushed away the tears forming in her eyes before they fell. She remembered again why she had fallen for him, and wondered why it had taken her so long to realise. She tried several times to type a reply, but never managed more than a few words before deleting them again. Nothing seemed right, nothing seemed enough. The love she held for him wanted to spill out into the phone, but pain kept it at bay.

In the end, she didn't reply. Marinette closed the chat and tossed her phone aside in favour of her tablet and laptop. She put on one of her favourite albums—quietly so as not to give herself another headache—and opened up a sketching app on her tablet. She doodled without thought, letting her mind wander.

She had replayed the dream several times over, each no less painful than the last. Still, she couldn't help but let it play again; just because it would never happen didn't mean she couldn't appreciate the romance her mind had cobbled together. The moonlight, the stars, the dress… The dress…

She opened up a new page on her sketch app and tried to replicate the dress from her dream. Pale silver-pink, flared skirt, delicate embroidery… As she drew, she thought idly that it would be a nice date dress. That was, assuming anyone would ever ask her on a date.

She was sketching her best attempt at the embroidered pattern—she couldn't remember what it was meant to be so she had to guess—when a thought burst through an idle daydream.

If she ever _did_ go on a date, _how_ was she meant to tell Chat Noir?


	26. Day Twenty-Six: Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Home, in which Marinette comes clean.

**DAY TWENTY-SIX: HOME**

On Thursday, Marinette's head cleared but her sneeze had returned with a vengeance, so she was kept home again. This time, she sent a text to the group chat, warning the others she was still sick and again Juleka agreed to drop by her homework.

Luka texted again, asking if she was feeling any better yet along with a short audio recording of a guitar. Something he'd been working on and thought she might like.

She did like it, but still hadn't worked out what to reply so didn't respond.

On Friday she stopped sneezing and, aside from needing to blow her nose more regularly, was well enough to go to school. This time, with determination to finally come clean to her friends about Adrien.

"I need to talk to you guys," Marinette said at lunch time whilst they filed out of the classroom. "I'm sorry about Monday-"

"It's cool," Alix said, shrugging. "You were sick or whatever."

"What did you want to talk to us about, Marinette?" Rose asked. "You can tell us now!"

"It...it's too big," she said. "I think I need more than a lunch break to explain, and somewhere more private than school."

"We can go somewhere after school," Mylѐne suggested with a smile. "I'm free. What about the park?"

"It's too cold," Alya said. "We don't want Marinette to get sick again. I'd say we could go to mine but the twins will be there, and…"

Juleka mumbled something, which Rose interpreted for them.

"That's a great idea! Juleka's houseboat should be empty for a few hours after school. We can go there?"

"Works for me," said Alix. Alya and Mylѐne nodded their agreement.

Marinette took a deep breath and tried to smile. "Okay then."

The rest of the day passed agonisingly slowly, and at one point Marinette was convinced that the clock had stopped working. Eventually, the end of day bell rang, and students poured out of the school. No rain today; instead the sky was a blazing blue and the sunshine nearly warm in between gusts of cool breeze. Juleka and Rose led the way to the houseboat. The group stopped briefly when they happened across André's cart and Rose decided it was destiny and therefore they had to get an ice cream.

André served them their cones with his usual flair and romantic rhymes. When he came to Marinette, she expected the same combination as before, but instead, he gave her...

" _For you a blueberry and chocolate swirl, and soothing mint for his beautiful soul."_

A scoop of blue and dark brown ice cream, topped with a smaller scoop of green mint. Marinette thanked him and stepped back, aware that her friends were staring at her ice cream with puzzled looks.

"Who does that represent?" Rose asked. "Someone with a beautiful soul…"

Marinette flushed. She knew exactly who it was meant to represent, but she didn't want to say. Not _yet._ Her eyes found Juleka, who was glaring at the ice cream suspiciously.

By the time they reached the houseboat, they had all but finished their ice creams and Alix was happily sucking any lingering cream from her fingers. The boat was, as Juleka had promised, empty. Clearly Anarka was out, and Luka at work.

Probably for the best, Marinette decided. She still hadn't replied to his texts, neither did she have a real excuse. Although she couldn't deny she was a little bit disappointed he wouldn't be there. When they walked past his bedroom—the door was shut—Marinette found herself listening vainly for the gentle strum of a guitar.

The group settled in Juleka's bedroom, hunched together either on the bed or in a nest of blankets on the floor. Suddenly, Marinette was hit with a surge of déjà vu from January, when they had first begun planning the initial Valentine's Day confession. How long ago that seemed now, when in reality less than three months had passed.

"So what's this about?" Alya asked. "Adrien, right?"

"Yes," Marinette said then frowned. "And no."

Juleka leaned forward. "You're over him, aren't you," she muttered.

Marinette nodded. "I'm over him. I've been thinking about this a lot since Valentine's Day and I realised that he's not right for me."

Alix and Mylѐne exchanged surprised looks as Rose's face fell in despair. Only Juleka seemed largely unbothered by this development.

"You don't love him anymore?" Rose asked, her soprano voice wobbling with absolute misery. Marinette hadn't realised how _invested_ she was in the relationship.

"No," she said. "I don't think I do."

"But you've been pursuing him for, like, two years now!" Alya exclaimed.

"Yeah," Marinette agreed. "Don't you think it's time I stopped?"

"But...But Adrienette?" Rose tried.

Marinette sighed then smiled. "It's for the best," she said. "You guys saw first hand what I was like. I wasn't in love with Adrien, I was in love _at_ him. I was obsessed and it was...toxic. You know?"

"I guess having his schedule printed out was a little much," Mylѐne admitted.

Alix snorted. "Not to mention you stole his phone."

"Exactly! I did all sorts of crazy stuff because I thought I loved him. And I'm not sure I ever actually did. Could you really call it love when I didn't actually know him that well?"

"When did you realise?" Mylѐne asked. "You were still trying to confess to him up until Valentine's Day, and then…"

"That's when I realised it wasn't right," Marinette said. She picked up one of the smaller cushions strewn on the floor and hugged it to her chest. "I realised that Adrien never made me feel like...me. Because I thought he was so perfect, so amazing, that I was always trying to be good enough too. Every time I made a mistake around him, or did something stupid, I noticed it. I never felt like I was good enough and I ended up pushing him away. I almost didn't want him to get too close in case he realised what a disaster I am. And…" She pursed her lips, staring at her ankle which bobbed up and down anxiously. She smothered it with the cushion. "And it occurred to me that a real relationship shouldn't make me feel like that. I want to be with someone who makes me feel at home, not in the wrong body. You know?"

She looked up to see the other girls smiling and nodding, and immediately a weight she didn't realise she was carrying fell away from her shoulders.

"Of course we understand, Marinette," Alya said, slinging an arm around her shoulder. "I'm sorry I got upset last weekend. It's just...why didn't you tell us before?"

"I...I don't know. I wanted to keep it to myself for a little bit, just to make sure I was right and my crush was gone. And then it just...didn't come up? And then I kept forgetting and then when Rose suggested the flower show, I was trying to explain but then Lila interrupted, and…"

"Why would that matter?" Alya asked. "I mean, you already told her…"

"What?" Marinette shook her head. "But I didn't tell her."

Alya's brow furrowed. "Yes you did. She was the one who told me."

"So you already knew I was over Adrien." Marinette didn't even bother posing it as a question; she'd known for nearly a week that Alya was aware of this.

Alya sighed, her face falling into a guilty frown. "I...when Lila told me you were over Adrien, I thought she must have been mistaken, you know? I thought she'd misunderstood because you would have told us. And then when I phoned you on last weekend I was hoping she was wrong. But you were dragging your feet about the flower show and I got upset."

"But I didn't tell her!" Marinette exclaimed. "Why would I tell her before you guys? She probably just guessed."

"Yeah, I agree with Marinette," Alix chimed in. "No way she and Lila are swapping secrets."

Alya screwed her mouth to one side and nodded, albeit reluctantly. "I guess."

"So, what now?" Mylѐne asked, leaning back against the wall. "Half the time when we hang out we're planning Marinette's love life."

"Unless there's someone else…" Alya said shrewdly. Her suspicious glare turned into a wicked grin. "She's blushing! There is!"

Marinette desperately willed the blush to leave her cheeks as Mylѐne and Rose gasped and scrambled forward to the edge of their bed, twin delight in their eyes. Juleka, sandwiched between them, huffed and rolled her eyes.

"Who is it?" Rose demanded. "Is it someone from our school?"

"It can't be Nino or Ivan or Kim," Mylѐne listed off, counting her fingers.

"You _hope_ it's not any of them," said Alix, smirking. "Look out, Marinette's coming to steal your men."

"I wouldn't!" Marinette gasped, prompting the other girl to laugh. Then she sighed, defeated. She had been thinking about telling them anyway... "He's not from our school."

Rose frowned for a brief moment, then her eyes lit up again and a wide smile spread across her face. "Oh! I know who it is!"

"I think I do too," said Alya. "If I'm right, Lila's a lot more observant than I realised."

Wait, Lila not only knew she was over Adrien...but knew who she'd fallen for as well?

"Who is it?" Mylѐne asked, head swivelling between Alya and Rose. "Who do we know that—" her eyes grew wide— " _Ohhh!"_

Alix pulled an irritated face. "Who is it, then?"

Well, she could hardly _not_ tell them now. Marinette took a few breaths to calm her nerves then said, "It isn't worth getting too invested in. I know he's already in love with someone else, but it's—"

_Knock knock._

"Hey, Jules. You back?"

Marinette slammed her hand over her face to stop herself from squealing in surprise. "I thought you said the houseboat was empty!" she hissed.

Juleka shrugged. "S'open," she called, fractionally louder than her usual mumble.

Luka pushed the door open and half stepped into the room. If he was surprised to see six girls instead of one inside, he hid it well. "Afternoon," he greeted.

"I thought you were working," Juleka said, not moving from her spot on the bed.

"There was a mix-up," he replied, shrugging. "I think the manager just fancies Camille and gave her extra shifts though…" His eyes meandered around the room before resting on Marinette. "Are you feeling better?"

Oh no. This was the moment she had hoped to evade. After ignoring him all week, he was probably hurt to see her awake and well and perfectly capable of sending a quick text. However, none of the hurt had made it to his face—instead he was smiling pleasantly.

Marinette jumped to her feet. She had to explain her behaviour in some way because she didn't want him to think she was some terrible person, even though she _was_ a terrible person for ignoring him but would she be making it worse by lying? She shook her head of these thoughts as she pushed him out of the room.

He went with her willingly, looking politely surprised.

"I'm sorry for ignoring your texts!" she whispered. "I mean, I didn't mean to ignore you. I just...I…"

"You don't have to explain," he said. "Like I said, you don't need to tell me anything you're not comfortable saying. I'm just glad you're feeling better."

Her heart clenched painfully. Why did he have to be so _nice_ and _understanding?_

Luka smiled, gave her a friendly but gentle pat on the shoulder, and walked back to his room. Marinette waited for him to disappear through his door before turning back to the girls. They were all unashamedly staring at her, all grinning bar Juleka, who instead looked vaguely annoyed, and Alix, who instead wore a devious smirk.

"I think I worked out who it is," she said coolly. "Nice."

Marinette felt her face turn red. She marched back to her spot on the floor and pulled the blanket up to cover her blush. "Don't…"

"How do you know he's in love with someone else?" Rose asked quietly. "I always thought he had a crush on you."

"Who is it?" Mylѐne added. "Who does he like?"

"I don't know her name, but he's told me about her," Marinette replied, sighing. The sound of a guitar bled through the thin walls. "You know, he's written songs for her…"

Juleka frowned but didn't comment. Beside her, Rose and Mylѐne echoed Marinette's sighs. Alya looked uncomfortable again. "I...I think I know who it is," she said quietly.

Immediately, all attention in the room snapped to her. "Who?" Alix demanded.

"It...it's Lila."

A silence descended for a few seconds as the group processed this assertion. Marinette felt as though someone had yanked her stomach out of her body then stabbed her chest for good measure. Luka? In love with Lila? But...that didn't make sense. Lila was _evil._ Lila was manipulative and cruel. And Luka...Luka was too kind, too genuine, too... _good._

"She told me last week," Alya continued. "She said she turned him down because she knew Marinette liked him and she didn't want to hurt her."

So...Lila knew she liked Luka? But Marinette had only realised herself on Monday. So how could Lila have known last week? Unless Luka had realised first and told her...but Luka…

"That doesn't make sense," Marinette said. "Luka doesn't even know Lila."

"They might...do you remember, they came into the locker room together." Mylѐne pointed out.

"He didn't know her before then," Marinette replied. "I talked to Luka afterwards and he didn't even know her name until I said it."

"Maybe he was pretending not to know her?" Alya suggested. "To spare your feelings?"

"I don't know…"

"Well," said Alix, cracking her fingers and grinning, "There's only one way to find out. HEY LUKA!"

Marinette flinched, and buried her head in her blanket when the guitar abruptly stopped. She thought perhaps he wasn't going to respond, perhaps he would assume it a silly joke and ignore them. But then she heard footsteps and the quiet squeak of the door opening.

"Yeah?"

"Do you like Lila?" Alix asked. "Lila Rossi?"

"I don't know who that is…"

"She hurt her ankle last week?" Alya prompted. Marinette found the courage to raise her head; Alya seemed worried. Then she turned to look at Luka and nearly hid her face again when she found him staring at her.

"Oh." He nodded. "I remember her now. I don't particularly like her, no. Why?"

"So, you didn't ask her out?" Alya asked desperately.

"Unless there's a new trend of asking for dates by literally throwing yourself on someone, no."

Alix stood up. "Okay, you can go now thanks, bye," she said before promptly shutting the door in his face. "Well, that's that solved."

"Maybe he's just trying to...to hide it as a secret?" Alya tried.

"He's not," said Juleka. "I know who he likes, and it's not Lila."

Rose gasped and turned to her, practically vibrating with excitement. "Who?"

But Juleka shook her head. "Not my secret to tell," she said, staring intently at Marinette, and no amount of begging would convince her to divulge it.


	27. Day Twenty-Seven: Surprise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Surprise, in which things go right (for once).

**DAY TWENTY-SEVEN: SURPRISE**

Alya was oddly quiet on Monday.

She had been a little quieter than usual after the group had gathered at Juleka's on Friday, and Marinette had expected her to be back to normal after the weekend, but no. Alya barely spoke a word all through Monday morning; she didn't even react when Lila launched into some tale about how she had spent the weekend helping XY write songs for his new album.

Neither did she say anything when Marinette gave a derisive snort and dryly pointed out that XY didn't write songs, he stole them from other artists.

Marinette went home for lunch, and as she ate her sandwich she puzzled about Alya's odd behaviour. When she returned to school for the afternoon's lessons, she found her classroom in chaos.

Alix and Kim were arguing loudly, Kim towering above her with his arms folded, Alix clutching a pencil as though prepared to stab him with it. Max was furiously typing on his tablet, glasses slipping down his sweaty nose as he muttered to himself. Chloé was shrieking, her mouth pulled up in a smug grin as Sabrina nodded enthusiastically and parroted her words back to her. Juleka, Rose and Ivan stood in the centre, their backs to the door and arguing with someone blocked from sight, whilst Adrien and Nathaniel desperately tried to appeal for them to sit down. Nino was crouched in the corner, hands firmly over his headphones, and Mylène hovered around Alya who was staring in despair at her phone.

Marinette watched from the doorway for a few seconds before taking a deep breath and plunging into the room. She had an awful feeling that she was somehow at the centre of this, and any moment now someone would notice her and start berating her for something Lila had accused her of…

She made it to her desk, and Mylène offered her a friendly smile as she sat down. She peeked at Alya's phone and saw by the red banner that she was on the Ladyblog. "Working on a new article?" she asked, hoping no one else could hear her heart thumping against her ribs.

Alya finally looked up, and Marinette was surprised to see tears in her eyes. "I've messed up, Marinette!"

"How?"

"It's all that stuff Lila said," Mylène replied. "She...she made it up."

"Oh," Marinette said flatly.

Mylène gasped, covering her mouth with both hands. "You've been saying this all along! I wish we'd believed you. I'm so sorry, Marinette."

"I can't believe she _lied_ ," Alya whispered. "To _me._ I was her _friend_ and she let me post this online! This could have ruined me!"

Marinette had been dreaming of this moment, when everyone finally realised what a shameless liar Lila was. She wanted to gloat, she wanted to laugh in their faces and ask if they believed her now. But she didn't; she swallowed down the urge to boast and sighed. "It's not too late," she said reassuringly. "You just have to come clean and admit your mistake. People will understand; you weren't the only person who fell for her lies."

She turned to give the rest of the class a stern glare; no one else had noticed her come in yet. However, from this angle she could see who Ivan, Juleka and Rose were arguing with.

Lila.

Lila sat on the floor, clutching a sketchbook, face pale. Perhaps she felt eyes upon her, or maybe she'd noticed the movement, but she suddenly turned her head and caught Marinette's eye.

"You!" she cried, trying to stand but failing. "Marinette! This is all your fault! Why would you do this to me?"

That got the rest of the class's attention. Marinette prepared herself for the backlash, for the blame to fall on her _again…_

"What the hell are you talking about?" Alix yelled. "She's only just got here! This is your fault!"

"Yeah, you stole her designs!" Rose added. "You made us think Marinette was a bully, when it was really you!"

"And she lied about Jagged Stone," Max chipped in. "Both about saving his kitten—he's never even had a kitten—and having a song about her. I would also call into question her friendship with Prince Ali, Steven Besielberg, or indeed any Hollywood director."

"B-but-"

"Can we all just calm down?" Adren called weakly. His eyes latched on to Marinette's. "Marinette? As class president, surely-"

"No," Marinette said, fighting down a smirk. "I think this is just what the class needs: _catharsis._ And what was that about stealing my designs?"

Juleka, in a rare display of aggression, snatched the sketchbook out of Lila's hand and handed it to Marinette. "See for yourself," she mumbled.

Marinette flicked open the book and stifled a cry of outrage. Every single page displayed designs for clothes and logos. Not just any designs, Marinette's designs. Designs from the sketchbook she had temporarily lost.

"We knew she'd stolen them from you," Rose squeaked, hurrying over to point at the book. "Look, these are your designs for Kitty Section!"

" _She_ must have stolen them from _me_!" Lila exclaimed. "I can't believe you're all taking her side!"

"But this logo—the lightning and the cat face with the unicorn horn—we saw her come up with it a year ago for our first music video!" Rose replied. "She made our costumes and everything!"

"There's no way she could have stolen them from you," Ivan added. "You were 'away'—" he punctuated this with air quotes— "at the time."

"Is that enough catharsis yet, Marinette?" Adrien said, his voice strained. "Can we stop now?"

Marinette looked around the room again; everyone looked exhausted. Kim was sulking; Alix's face had turned pink with anger; Nathaniel was back in his seat, head buried in his arms; Nino remained in the corner, muttering. Marinette nodded.

"I think we should all sit down before Mlle. Bustier gets here," she said, suddenly feeling exhausted herself.

The afternoon passed without incident, and as soon as the end-of-day bell sounded, Lila fled from the room with a loud cry. Mlle. Bustier asked if something had happened, and when she received no answer from her dead-eyed class she hurried after her.

Immediately, the class descended into chaos again. This time, however, there was no arguing, no shouting, no standing around glaring. Instead, several people made their way to Marinette's desk and apologised in turn for not believing her before. The only people who didn't were Chloé and Sabrina, who left, and Adrien.

They were still there when Mlle. Bustier returned, her face stern. "Class, we need to have a talk. Lila just told me—"

"A lie, probably!" Alix interrupted.

"She _told_ me," Bustier continued, "that a number of people in this class ganged up on her."

An awkward silence, then Alix said, "Well, yeah."

"We just found out she's been lying to us all year," Rose explained.

"And she stole from Marinette!" Alya added.

"She…" Bustier sighed heavily, and rubbed her temple. "I would like to ask for some proof this time," she said.

Silently, Marinette opened up Lila's sketchbook and displayed it on her desk. Then she grabbed her own sketchbook—which she had thankfully brought in with her—and opened it to a page showing the stolen designs. Bustier scrutinised both books, lips tugging down.

"They do look similar," she murmured.

"And Marinette definitely designed them first!" Rose exclaimed. "Our band saw her drawing them!"

Bustier nodded slowly, still staring at the drawings. "I see. Well, erm…"

"You are going to punish Lila, aren't you?" Alya asked. The tears had long since faded, leaving a vengeful fury in her eyes. "She steals, she lies, she should at least get detention. Probably more."

Marinette noticed Alya kick the back of Nino's chair, prompting him to jolt up straight and add, "Yeah! You, uh...you were going to expel Marinette for stealing."

"Well, that wasn't my decision, but…" She finally peeled her gaze away from the sketches and noticed the way her students were glaring at her. "I think this is a matter for M. Damocles. Excuse me, you can all go home."

Looking troubled, Mlle. Bustier swept out of the room.

* * *

Tuesday was a dream. Lila didn't come to school—there were several rumours circulating by lunch, ranging from her expulsion to a debilitating disease. Alya had become especially friendly in an attempt to make up for her hot-and-cold behaviour since Lila had first arrived. Adrien, on the other hand, was acting a little more distant than usual. Nino later told Alya, who told the girls, that it was because he had been upset with how things had gone down the previous day.

"Apparently he thinks it was embarrassing for her and we might humiliate her into an akuma," Alya finished, rolling her eyes. "I mean, come on. Humiliating for _her_? _I'm_ the one who was humiliated. I had to write an apology post for the Ladyblog last night, took down her video, and now I need to go through every other post I've done to make sure there's nothing else untrue."

"Maybe you could ask Ladybug to help you?" Marinette suggested. "I'm sure she'd like to help stop misinformation spreading."

"Yeah, maybe…"

"I'm not surprised Adrien thinks that though," Rose said. "He doesn't like rocking the boat."

"I'll say," Marinette muttered. "He knew she was lying from the beginning."

"What! If he'd said something too I probably would have listened to you more," Alya said, slumping back in her seat. "I'm sorry again, Marinette."

"I can't blame him," Alix said, shrugging. "His dad probably had his spine removed at birth."

* * *

Lila didn't turn up for the rest of the week. On Friday afternoon, Marinette left school in a good mood, mind filled with daydreams of an entire Paris without Lila. She had barely made it down the steps when someone touched her shoulder.

"Eep! Oh, Juleka!" She smiled at her friend. "Everything alright?"

"I need you to listen to this," Juleka said, holding up her phone. She fished a pair of headphones out of her pocket, plugged it into the phone, and handed the buds to Marinette.

"New song?" Marinette asked, accepting the buds and slotting them in her ears. "Did you write it?"

Juleka shook her head. They made their way to the shaded grass besides the steps where they wouldn't be in anyone's way. Then, Juleka pressed her phone and music started up. An acoustic song, with a bright, melodic guitar line over gentle drums. It was gorgeous, Marinette thought as she nodded along with the beat. But perhaps slightly sad. No, not sad...melancholy. The guitar was almost familiar, but she couldn't put her finger on why.

She was surprised when a voice started singing. A male voice, so it wasn't Juleka or Rose. A nice voice, soft and sincere. Luka's voice, Marinette realised with a jolt. She'd never heard him sing before, but it had to be him.

She soon forgot that Juleka was standing next to her, forgot about the chilly breeze robbing the warmth from the air, forgot about the school and the grass and the sun. Forgot even to breathe. It was a love song, achingly beautiful, filled with desire and admiration and _love._ Everything that a love song should be. And yet every strum of the guitar was like a stone in her heart, every drumbeat a crack in her soul.

She hummed along to the final chorus.

" _Because darling you deserve a thousand love letters:  
Eight for your smile and seven for your eyes,  
_ _Six for your warmth, five for your laughter.  
I could listen to that for the rest of our lives._

 _Four for your hands, three for each finger,  
_ _Two for your soul, bright as the sun.  
_ _You deserve a thousand love letters,_  
But I've only got this one."

The last notes of the guitar faded, and the song finished.

Marinette pulled out the earphones and handed them back to Juleka. She tried to smile. "It's amazing, Juleka. Is...is it one Luka wrote?"

Juleka nodded. She wore an odd expression Marinette couldn't place.

"I see he's finally finished one of his songs," she continued. She didn't like the silence in between. "Is he, um, going to send it to that girl? The one he likes?"

Juleka's eyes darkened. "I already have."

"You...you have? Who is it? Wait, no." Marinette shook her head. "Don't tell me."

"Do you know what the song's called?" Juleka asked bluntly. When Marinette shook her head again, she held up the phone to show her the screen.

_A Thousand Love Letters_

Cold flashed through Marinette's body, quickly followed by an unbearable heat. That...that was the name...the name of the song he said...he said he'd write for her. But, that would mean…

"The girl he likes," she murmured, dazed. "She's…"

"You," Juleka grunted. "He likes you. If he's not going to do anything about it and you're not going to either, then I had to."

Then Rose had been right! And so had Tikki! Those songs, they _had_ been for her. No wonder he never let her listen to any of them. And of course he hadn't made a move, not when he thought she was in love with Adrien. Because he was too kind and thoughtful and too much of a gentleman to put her in an awkward situation.

"I...I need to go and talk to him!" Marinette gasped. "Where is he? Is he working? Maybe I cou-"

Juleka grabbed her arm before she could start running in some random direction. "Wait."

Marinette stopped, but her heart was pounding and her blood was racing and her legs were twitching, ready to move. "Yeah?"

"You're my friend and I want you to be happy," she said. "But he's my brother and I don't want him to get heart. You got over Adrien really quickly and I want you to be sure before you start something. Don't break his heart."

An unsaid 'again' filled the silence. Marinette nodded.

"I don't. I mean...maybe you're right. I...I need to think. I won't hurt him. I promise, Juleka."

Juleka nodded stiffly and let go. "He's working today and tomorrow, but he's free on Sunday."

Sunday, then. She'd sleep on it, reflect on it, sleep on it again, then…

On Sunday, she would tell him she loved him.


	28. Day Twenty-Eight: Free

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Free, in which Marinette stalks Luka at work.

**DAY TWENTY-EIGHT: FREE**

Saturday morning.

Marinette had never felt better.

Sure, waking up on Tuesday through Friday had been amazing, knowing that Lila had lost her grip on the school. But waking up on Saturday, and instantly remembering that Luka _loved_ her? She smiled so widely, so hard that she almost burst into tears.

After breakfast, during which her maman shot her knowing smiles across the table, Marinette sat at her desk, legs bobbing, and dug out the hand template she'd made when she'd practised crafting gloves for Adrien. The template that, despite being drawn free-style, somehow matched Luka's hands perfectly. She had already selected a lightweight, dark blue fabric and now she hummed cheerfully to herself as she drew around the template with chalk.

"Are you still planning to confess to Luka tomorrow?" Tikki asked. "You told Juleka you'd sleep on it."

"I have slept on it," Marinette replied. "And I'm sure about it this time. It feels so much different than it did with Adrien. I'm not afraid. I don't feel like I have to hide any part of me from Luka. At least...mostly…" She raised her eyebrows at Tikki and laughed. "It just feels _right_ this time!"

"I'm really happy for you, Marinette," Tikki said. "But...what about Chat Noir?"

Marinette frowned but finished drawing around the second template before replying. "Well...I don't know. Maybe I just shouldn't bring it up. I mean, it's none of his business."

"That's not what you said before."

She looked across at her sketchbook, propped open at the page of her silver-pink dream dress where she had been adding extra touches the previous night. "Well...I mean...Luka won't know I'm Ladybug, so he can't get upset with Chat's flirting…"

"You said it would be disrespectful," Tikki pointed out.

That was true. Marinette had hoped she'd forgotten the conversation they'd had late one night about how disastrous dating would be with Chat Noir's overbearing nature and obsession with soulmates and destiny. And there had been mention of how uncomfortable she would feel with his flirtations if she was dating someone else.

"That was before I realised I might actually have a chance with Luka!" Marinette replied, picking up her fabric scissors to begin cutting out her gloves. "You know what Chat's like. He won't like it. What if he acts out during an akuma attack? What if we lose?"

"You won't lose," said Tikki. "You have Viperion, Rena Rouge, and Carapace to support you too!"

Also true, although only Viperion had shown up recently. Perhaps Rena Rouge and Carapace were busy with their civilian lives.

"I don't want to risk it," she said. "Even if just Chat Noir is defeated, and Hawkmoth gets his Miraculous, that makes it that much easier for him, that much harder for us."

"But it's not fair on you," Tikki said. "You're Ladybug, but you're Marinette too. You shouldn't let your relationships as Marinette be disrespected because of Chat Noir."

"You want me to talk to him."

"Yes. Not just for you, but for Luka too. And for him. How can he learn if you don't show him where he's going wrong?"

Marinette sighed. "Okay. I'll...I'll see if I can talk to him."

" _Before_ you talk to Luka," Tikki said.

Marinette groaned but nodded. "Before I talk to Luka. Fine. I'll talk to him today. But I want to finish these gloves first. Luka said he gets cold hands when he's busking, but he can't play guitar with gloves on."

"So you're making him...gloves?"

Marinette grinned and sniped her scissors. "I'm making him fingerless gloves."

* * *

She'd gotten good with gloves, and so by lunch Marinette had finished sewing all of the pieces together, cut off the tips of each finger, and hemmed the edges so they wouldn't fray. When she was done eating, she texted Luka.

**Marinette: are you free tomorrow? I want to talk to you about something**

Then, she transformed into Ladybug and sent a message to Chat Noir.

**Ladybug: Are you free today? We need to talk**

She was nervous about receiving a response from either of them, so to expend some of her nervous energy she decided to go for a run around Paris.

It was odd, swinging and sprinting through the city during the day without an akuma to chase. The civilians found it strange too, and some of them panicked at the sight of her. They were only sated when she shouted that there were no akumas and nothing was wrong.

The sun was bright, and with no breeze the day was surprisingly warm. Colourful spring flowers smothered the parks and lined the grassy verges by the roads. Each lull in traffic allowed the sound of birdsong to swell and fill the air.

Spring had finally arrived to chase away the lingering chills of winter.

Feeling less antsy, Ladybug came to rest on a rooftop overlooking downtown Paris. It was, of course, a complete coincidence that the roof on which she had landed just happened to be the roof of a pizza place where one of her friends' brothers just happened to work…

She idly watched the streets beneath, thankfully the area was mostly dominated by food places and as the lunch rush was over there were few people in the vicinity to spot her and panic about non-existent akumas. As she watched, she noticed a familiar bike pull into the tiny courtyard next to the pizza place, where there was a door to the kitchen. The figure on the bike pulled off his helmet, running a hand through his hair where it had been flattened, and propped the bike against the wall as he waited for the next batch of deliveries.

Ladybug expected Luka to go inside, but instead he leaned next to his bike and pulled out his phone. She couldn't see his face, but she did notice that he sent a text very quickly then jammed his phone back into his pocket so that he could fidget his fingers, something Luka did often when he was nervous about something.

Sure enough, when Ladybug pulled her phone out of her yo-yo, she found a new text from Luka.

**Luka: Sure, I'm free all day**

**Luka: Everything alright?**

**Marinette: Everythings fine! Does 11 work? At the park?**

Ladybug grinned and peered over the lip of the roof to watch him reply.

**Luka: 11 is good!**

Ladybug returned the phone to her yo-yo and sighed. The plan was in motion; all she needed to do now was talk to that cat…

"Ladybug?"

She nearly fell off the roof in fright. Luka was staring at her, as surprised to see her as she was to be noticed by him. "Uh, hey!"

"Is there an akuma?" he asked, glancing around as if expecting a pizza monster to suddenly strike.

She shook her head quickly. "No, no! Just, uh...just hanging out."

"On the roof?"

"...Yep. I'm, uh...I'm looking for Chat Noir and you know how cats like being in high places…"

"You might have luck by the Seine," he said. "I see him from my houseboat sometimes. Usually at night, though."

"That's really helpful! Thank you, Lu-uh...random citizen!" Ladybug pulled back, out of sight, before he could see her blush. Did Ladybug know Luka? She couldn't recall if she had ever spoken to him as a superhero; at least, spoken to him enough to warrant remembering his name.

Ladybug shook her head clear. No time for worrying about that. She'd had no reply from Chat Noir, but at least she knew where she _might_ find him. But, just to be sure, she sent him a second message.

**Ladybug: I'm going to be by the Seine at 9pm this evening  
** **Ladybug: It's really important**

It would have to do. She hurled her yo-yo, exiting the roof from the opposite side of where Luka stood, and meandered back home.

* * *

Marinette spent the afternoon adding the final touches to her gloves. She added squares of material to the back of each glove to form small pockets in which one could keep a guitar pick or two. Then her eyes alighted on the picture of the dream dress again, and she remembered in the same dream Luka had been wearing a shirt a similar colour to the gloves, but it had been decorated with delicate branches and leaves in pale silver-pink thread.

She hoped it wouldn't be too emasculating to add the same pattern to the gloves.

The sun had set when she finally finished. Embroidering was a long and arduous task, but the gloves were quite small for a snug fit and the fabric easy to work with. At 7pm, she went down for dinner with her parents, at 8pm they watched a programme about traditional baking in England (her papa's choice), then at 8.45pm, Marinette declared she was tired and went to bed.

She reached the Seine just after 9pm, where she found Chat Noir already waiting on top of a building.

"I got your message, m'lady," he said, grinning. "What did you want to talk about? Finally ready to take me up on that date?"

"No." She sat down at the edge of the roof and let her feet dangle. The moon was large and sat before them like a silver coin falling endlessly through the stars. "Chat. I need you to...stop."

He sat next to her, reclining back on his arms. "Stop what?" he asked.

Ladybug took a few breaths as she searched for the words and wished she had thought to plan this talk beforehand. "Your...romantic endeavour," she eventually managed. "It's not going to work, Chat. Ever."

To her irritation, Chat responded with a laugh. "So you keep saying, but you know I'll win you over one day."

"No, I don't think you will."

"Besides," he continued, "it's harmless. And Paris loves it! Shouldn't we be spreading good feelings as part of our job?" He nudged her arm, prompting her to shift slightly away from him.

"Yes, but-"

"And if people like our relationship, shouldn't we continue it?"

"No!"

"Why?"

"Because _I_ don't like it!" she snapped. "I don't like it, Chat."

The smile slid from his face. He looked like he'd been slapped. "But...but I enjoy flirting with you."

"So your feelings are more important than mine?" she asked coolly.

"That's not what I said."

"It sort of is." She sighed; she needed a different approach. "You know I have a life outside of...this, don't you?"

"Of course."

"And I'm my own person outside of Ladybug."

"But you _are_ Ladybug," he pointed out.

"Yes," she agreed. "And that's a really important part of me. But as Ladybug, I can't be fully myself, you know? I have a job to do, and that's what I focus on. As Ladybug, I have to put every other part of me aside to concentrate on being the hero. But outside of that...I'm a teenage girl. I have a life. I have goals and dreams that you don't know about, Chat." Ladybug looked at him sadly. "And they're not about you."

"I have a life too," he replied. "When I'm not Chat Noir."

"So, you understand?"

Chat paused, frowning slightly and staring at the moon. Then he shook his head. "No. We're the cat and ladybug. We're destined to be partners. We're bound by something bigger than ourselves, chosen to be together." He turned to her and reached out to take one of her hands. "Don't you understand that?"

"I understand we're partners." Ladybug stared at their joined hands, his gleaming in the moonlight, hers as bright as fresh blood. She pulled out of his grasp. "But not romantic partners."

"We're soulmates," he insisted.

"Are we?" she asked. "Or are our _kwamis_ soulmates? Tikki is who makes me Ladybug, Plagg is who makes you Chat Noir. And those are the parts that are bound together, not us as regular people." She could tell by face that he was struggling to accept this line of thought, so she changed tactics again. "Look, Chat, I have to be honest. There's this guy-"

He huffed and rolled his eyes. "This again. Haven't you asked this guy out yet? He'd probably say yes."

"Different guy," she said bluntly. "I'm going to ask him out tomorrow and...and I need you to stop flirting with me, please. It's not only disrespectful to me, but also to him."

Chat Noir held up a hand. "Wait, different guy? So...what's to stop you from going off this new guy, too? Why are you giving everyone a chance but me?"

"Because it's dangerous!" she cried. "Because Hawkmoth would use that to his advantage! And, really, how do you think dating as superheroes would go?"

He pouted and looked away, curling his legs to his chest to rest his chin on his knees. "I figured maybe you'd tell me who you are," he mumbled. "Then we could date as civilians too."

"You know we can never do that," she said. "Not whilst Hawkmoth is still out there. It's too dangerous."

"What about after we defeat Hawkmoth?" A hopeful light glimmered in his eyes, and Ladybug's stomach writhed.

"I'm not talking about then," she said. "I'm talking about _now_. And right now, I want to date someone but I don't want to do that whilst you're flirting with me. And...even if I wasn't interested in someone else, I still don't want you flirting with me. It makes me feel...disrespected. And it makes me feel like you're not taking me seriously."

"So that's it, then," he muttered. "There's no hope."

"No, Chat," she said. "I'm afraid there isn't. And… I think you'd be happier dating someone you know as your civilian self. Someone who you can give all of yourself too, not just...a hero of Paris."

"I get it," he said shortly, standing up. "I understand. I'll stop. Goodnight, Ladybug."

Without another word, and without glancing back, he extended his pole and vaulted away. Ladybug waited for a few seconds, in case he came back, but he didn't. The night was still, the moon was bright, and the stars gleamed like a thousand tiny suns. She sighed, then she smiled, then she laughed.

It was done. And she...she was free.


	29. Day One: Leap

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Leap, in which things end, and things begin.

**DAY TWENTY-NINE: LEAP**

Marinette slept badly. She had been so jubilant the previous evening that she'd done a few celebratory laps of Paris before finally returning home. Then, when she couldn't sleep, she decided to write a small note for Luka in case she failed to get the words out tomorrow. She stewed over this for what could have been ten minutes or three hours before simply penning the words 'I love you' in her neatest handwriting. She folded the piece of paper up until it was small enough to fit inside one of the pockets on his gloves. Finally, she pulled out one of her nicer casual outfits—a pink dress, grey tights, and denim jacket with hand-embroidered flowers on the black—and laid it out on her chaise-lounge.

Still too excited to sleep, Marinette then sat up until the early hours playing games on her phone and scrolling social media with the hopes of distracting her overactive mind. Finally, at some ridiculous time, her phone flashed that it was nearly dead so she plugged it in to charge next to her bed, curled up beneath her blanket, and shut her eyes.

At some point she must have slept, but her dreams had been so vivid and active that when she woke up, she felt like she hadn't slept at all. However, she also couldn't remember the dreams, just vague details that turned to smoke whenever she tried to grab them.

As she rubbed the sand from her eyes and stretched, she noticed her phone wasn't beeping. "It's always a good day when I beat my alarm," she said to herself, grinning. She threw off her blanket and leapt to her feet. Blazing sunshine beamed through her windows, igniting the floor with bright golden light. She ran down to the rest of her room, grabbed her clothes, and danced into the bathroom to shower and brush her teeth.

She sang her way through three of her favourite Jagged Stone songs whilst she dried her hair and pulled it back into her usual pigtails, tying them with pink ribbons to match her dress. Finally, she grabbed the cute ankle boots Gina had sent for Christmas, and deemed herself ready.

"I've never been ready so early," Marinette mused. "What even is the time? It must be before ten…"

"Uh, Marinette…"

Well, that tone never meant good news. Marinette looked at Tikki, who was holding her phone. "What is it?"

"Did you remember to charge your phone?"

"Of course I did! I even moved my charger so it would be next to my bed so I'd definitely hear it," Marinette replied, grabbing her phone and pressing the power button.

Nothing.

Maybe it had turned itself off? With dread gnawing at her stomach, Marinette held down the power button until the screen weakly flashed an empty battery symbol. It was dead.

If it was dead, then that meant the alarm wasn't on.

And if the alarm wasn't on…

"What's the time?" she yelped, charging back up to her bed. She desperately jammed the charger back into her phone, but nothing happened. She checked the plug socket—off. She punched it on and sighed in relief when a tiny red light appeared at the top of her phone. She tried the power button again, but the phone refused to show nothing except the dead battery icon. Not enough charge to turn on.

"Marinette!" cried Tikki, emerging through the floor. "I just looked downstairs—it's past 12!"

Marinette gasped a word she was glad her parents weren't around to hear. No time to wait for her phone to charge. She grabbed the gloves and her purse and charged out of the room.

"Finally awake?" Sabine commented as Marinette raced through the kitchen.

"No time gotta go bye!" Marinette yelled over her shoulder and surged down to the bottom floor then burst out onto the street. It would take her fifteen minutes to walk to the park, ten if she ran. Five if she transformed. But she was already an hour late and Luka may have given up and she couldn't just text him or phone him and ask him to wait…

Marinette ducked behind a bin and transformed.

Ladybug swung onto the nearest rooftop and ran. No roads or solid walls to get in her way; just a straight line.

"Please still be there. Please still be there," she whispered to herself. If he wasn't, she supposed she could just run to his house instead and pray the Couffaines let her onboard. She had half a thought to phone him from her yo-yo, but she didn't know his number off by heart, and he wouldn't recognise the caller. "Please," she whispered again, voice ragged and lost to the wind as soon as it passed her lips. "Please…"

The park was a sea of green up ahead. Ladybug leapt down and found a spot to detransform in then sprinted through the gates. It was busy: the Sunday sunshine had brought half of Paris outside to enjoy its warmth. Marinette looked desperately around for Luka's tell-tale blue hair or favourite denim jacket. She zigged and zagged around families, nearly crashed into several people, and accidentally disrupted a game of frisbee.

He wasn't here. He had gone. She'd overslept and missed him and now-

"Marinette?"

Now he was standing behind her, frowning in concern.

"Luka!" she yelped, spinning around so quickly she nearly overbalanced. "You're still here!"

"I tried to phone you," he said, "but I couldn't get through. Everything okay?"

"My phone! Yes, see, I forgot to charge my phone and so it was dead but my alarm was on my phone but because it was dead I didn't hear it because, well, it didn't, uh, alarm and then I woke up late and I couldn't phone you, and-"

He touched her arm, prompting her to stop talking and remember to breathe. "Hey, it's okay. I was actually about to go down to yours, just in case something had happened. Do you want to sit? You look tired."

She felt tired, and all she managed to do in reply was nod her head. Luka led her off the path to a bench beneath a tree, where she all but collapsed.

"So, what did you want to talk about?" he asked with that gentle smile of his.

The time had come. There was no backing out. It was now or never. Marinette opened her mouth but it was dry. She swallowed thickly, tried again, but she had no words. What was she meant to say? Why hadn't she written a script, or planned this out? She squeezed her hands into a fist and realised she was still clutching the gloves.

They would be a good start. She pressed the garments into his hands. "These are for you."

"For me?" he repeated. "Thank you. These are amazing...oh, they're fingerless! It's probably getting a bit warm for gloves, but these will be great later on when I'm busking."

Of course! What a stupid idea—gloves in spring! She stared at her hands; they felt exposed now that she had let go of the gloves. Exposed and small. She clenched her fists and watched her knuckles turn white.

"Marinette? What's wrong?"

Damn his observational skills. She forced herself to look at him and tried to smile. "Nothing!"

"You look nervous," he said. "Have...have I done something to make you uncomfortable?"

"No!" she exclaimed. "I'm nervous because...because…" _Come on, Marinette. Just say it. Say it. Now!_ "Because I love you!"

His face fell in shock. He opened his mouth but didn't speak.

Oh no. She'd made it awkward. But the silence was so unbearable she found herself chattering to fill it. "I didn't realise it before. I...I was such an idiot for not seeing it. I was so focused on what I thought I wanted that I didn't realise what I actually wanted I had all along You. I want _you._ I love _you."_

He didn't reply. He only stared at her in complete amazement, mouth agape, gloves limp in his hands.

"That is," she murmured, heart sinking. "I mean...if you still...Juleka showed me the song and I just, she said, I thought...It's okay if you don't. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have just...unloaded like that."

Marinette rose shakily to her feet. She could still run. She could still back away and leg it and be out of the park and out of sight within a few seconds and transform and escape. Then he blinked a few times, looked back at the gloves with a sort of reverence, then back at her.

"You-" he began before laughing. Breathy at first before strengthening into real laughs of pure joy. "You love me," he said. "You love me."

Marinette nodded slowly. "I'm sorry it took so long for me to realise it."

He stood, stepped forward and swept her into his arms, his face pressed against her neck, breath shuddering against her skin. She melted in his arms, moving her hands so they were flat against his chest, and dared herself to smile. Her face warmed, but this time the blush was comforting, like a second layer to keep the love and joy from bursting out of her.

Luka pulled away just enough to cup her face, his hand cool against her cheek. She raised her own hand to meet his and hold it in place. "I love you too," he murmured.

Marinette moved first, rising up to the tips of her toes, just high enough to brush her nose against his chin. Luka tilted his head down to catch her lips in a short, chaste kiss.

"Do you want to go on a date?" she breathed, settling back on her heels. "With me?"

He grinned. "Depends. Do I have to wear a shirt?"

She laughed, and with that laugh all of the emotion she had been keeping at bay flooded out as hot tears which she hid by bowing into his chest. This was better than the dream, better than dancing beneath the moon in dark blue and cherry blossoms. And this time it was _real._ Then, when she collected herself and brushed her face, she looked back at him and smiled. "I don't care what you wear," she said, reaching down to take one of his hands in hers, "as long as I'm with you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> RIP the line: "she melted into him like a piece of butter in puff pastry", which I wrote, laughed at, then deleted.
> 
> And that, my friends, is that. Thank you so much for all of your support and kind words. This might not be the end as I am considering writing a short collection of one-shots related to this as a sort of companion piece, consisting of scenes that happened 'off-page'. So, if there are any bits you would like to see, let me know! But yeah, thanks for reading and see you next time! Ciao.


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